Unwelcome Houseguest
by Syntyche
Summary: Obi-Wan discovers how difficult it is to live with The Chosen One, and Qui-Gon's not exactly helping, either. A tragicomedy of non-epic proportions.
1. Unwelcome Houseguest

Title: Unwelcome Houseguest

Author: Syntyche

Rated: PG for mild swearing and completely unnecessary Obi angst. That's right.

Comments: Constructive criticism (though, um, maybe not for this particular fic) and kind reviews are always welcome and will be as adored and cherished as Obi-Wan Kenobi, and also much better treated.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I am not making any profit off of this fic (I know that's surprising considering the gripping plot). I write because I love to, and Obi-Wan is so delicious a subject matter.

**The moral of this fic**: Rear-ending a car waiting innocently at a stoplight not only turns the driver of said car into a crinkly paper doll, it also puts on hold serious stories the driver may have been working on because they're stored on the desktop and she's stuck in bed for awhile, and instead feeds the Muse stories with the theme of "I have to laugh or I'll start crying."

This completely ridiculous fic came about as I wondered briefly what might happen to Obi-Wan's carefully constructed routine if Anakin came to live on Coruscant. I imagine it would be pretty difficult to live with the "Chosen One." Why did I post it? I have no idea. My love for Obi-Wan makes me do strange things at times.

I also make no apologies for my unnatural dislike of Anakin. I can't be the only one who shortens TPM to the twenty-five minutes of Obi-Wan, can I?

* * *

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Sunlight streamed in through the open slats of the windows in Obi-Wan Kenobi's bedroom, and the Padawan rolled away from the unwanted intrusion into his comfortable little nest, pulling his pillow with him and wedging it firmly over his head to ward off the encroaching day. He knew it would be futile in the end – he waged this same losing battle every morning, after all – but for now, for this exact moment, he fought for and successfully secured five more minutes of peace before the beginning of another hellish day in the Life of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

_It hadn't always been this bad,_ he reflected from the safety of his little fortress as he covered a yawn with the back of his hand. There had been a time once when he'd almost – _**almost**__ –_ looked forward to mornings and greeted the pre-dawn day with only a tiny snarl instead of hiding in his room. All that had changed a few months ago, however, when through circumstances that were entirely _**not**_ Obi-Wan's fault, the Chosen One – _da da da dadaaaadum _(Obi-Wan always gave the title the mental drum roll it deserved) – Anakin Skywalker had come to live with the Jedi, and with Obi-Wan and his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, in particular.

_I'm glad __**I'm **__not his Master,_ Obi-Wan thought churlishly. _I'd wring that obnoxious little neck._ _Living with him is bad enough. _

He consoled himself with the fact that his Trials for knighthood were only a few long weeks away, but it didn't make it any damned easier to roll out of bed in the morning and face that …. creature – that _**child**_, Obi-Wan corrected himself carefully. No sense in inviting more trouble; Qui-Gon had been quite clear as to the consequences of any under-the-breath mumblings about pathetic lifeforms, and Obi-Wan was fairly certain his Master would follow through on the "babysitting Anakin" threat. Obi-Wan had been through quite a lot in his twenty-five years, and reflecting on a long span of adventure, angst, and visits to various Healers' Wards, was still hard-pressed to imagine enduring anything more painfully horrific than being forced to spend time alone with the Chosen One (_da da da dadaaaadum)_.

There was a rap at his door and Qui-Gon's familiar, "Get up, Padawan!"

Obi-Wan peeked one blue-grey eye out from beneath the blanket.

_Make me_, he thought.

"Don't try me," came Qui-Gon's reply. "I'll send Anakin in to get you up."

Damn it, again with the Anakin threats. In his personal opinion, the Chosen One (_da da da dadaaaadum_) could use a little discipline. Anakin had a fearsome temper, even at the ripe old age of nine. Obi-Wan conjured up a mental image of Anakin being whacked a few times by Master Yoda's gimmer stick, and was pleasantly comforted by it.

"Obi-Wan, stop that this instant," the threat was quietly spoken, but, Obi-Wan felt, all the more deadly because of it.

Obi-Wan blinked. He'd have to watch his shields if Qui-Gon was getting into the habit of eavesdropping. Damn.

"I heard that," Qui-Gon reprimanded, knocking on the door again. "Watch your mouth. You don't hear me scolding _**Anakin**_for using such base language, do you?"

"I learned it from _**him**_!" Obi-Wan shot back. He sighed, slowly untangling himself from his little nest and rolling off his bed. He straightened his sleep pants and ran a hand through his short hair in a useless attempt to tame the scattered ginger spikes, but there would be no grace from that quarter this morning and his hair remained unfortunately disheveled and about as ready to face the day as he did.

He yawned again and stretched – was he getting old? It was becoming increasingly difficult to get started in the morning – _maybe this is what having children around does to you_, he mused. He almost gave himself a drum roll for finally getting up, but decided to reserve that honor solely for Anakin.

His only hope was to make it to the shower before being forced to start the day. Quickly Obi-Wan gathered up his clean clothing and opened the door fractionally, peering out into the hallway. No one there. He could hear Qui-Gon puttering around in the kitchen, probably trying to make breakfast – _oatmeal again_, Obi-Wan thought with a frown, because it was the only thing that his master could make successfully – and across the common room, Anakin's door – next to the fresher – was still closed.

_I can make it, _Obi-Wan thought, relieved. _As long as I don't have to talk to anyone before I get a shower, I'll be fine. _

Obi-Wan toed the door open fully and prepped himself for the trial ahead.

_Ready … and … go!_

He took off down the hallway, dashing through the common room, sprinting over the sofa, nearly there …

The door to Anakin's room opened and in a blur Anakin had rounded the corner and slammed the fresher door shut. Obi-Wan, just clearing the sofa, had time for a brief thought – another word he was sure his master wouldn't approve of, but one he hadn't learned from Anakin – and sent a quick command to his brain – _Abort! Abort!_ – before smashing into the fresher door rather spectacularly and sliding to the floor in a heap. A second later, he heard Anakin start the shower.

Qui-Gon, entering the common room at that moment bearing a tray stacked with bowls of oatmeal, surveyed his crumpled apprentice with a long-suffering sigh.

"For Force's sake, Obi-Wan," he reproached sternly. "You could just wait on the couch like a _**normal**_ human being."

OoOoOoOo

Later, when Obi-Wan finally emerged from the fresher almost ready to start another day, he saw Anakin sitting in _**his**_ usual chair at the common room table, happily slurping up his oatmeal – on which he'd poured a rather generous quantity of milk, Obi-Wan noted; it bothered him though he wasn't certain why. Qui-Gon was sitting at the opposite end of the table, nibbling on wheat toast as he perused the day's news reports and seemingly oblivious to the fact that the Pod-Racing Celebrity from Tatooine had pre-empted Obi-Wan's normal place at the table.

Obi-Wan scowled, first at Qui-Gon, who didn't notice, and then at Anakin, who did notice and offered a smirk in return, milk dribbling down his chin. Obi-Wan scowled harder and crossed the room to the refrigerator, yanking the door open harder than was really necessary. At that, Qui-Gon did look up.

"There's oatmeal, Padawan … " he began, but trailed off as he noticed that both of the bowls he'd set out were empty, and Anakin was sitting back in his chair with an extremely satisfied expression on his face. "Never mind," he finished mildly.

Grunting by way of reply, Obi-Wan scoured the fridge, picking through the leftovers of the week's dinners. Finding nothing even remotely appetizing, Obi-Wan's sharp eyes brightened when he noticed something extremely appealing on the top shelf. And, unlike anything else in the fridge, it was _**fresh**__._

Qui-Gon looked up as Obi-Wan crossed the room, balancing a full plate and a mug of hot tea. "Find something?"

"Mm," Obi-Wan murmured absently, lifting a hand by way of request. Qui-Gon, accustomed to his Padawan's morning monosyllabic behavior, obligingly tossed the data reader containing the news reports toward his Padawan. Anakin looked up, interested for the moment, but when he saw that any intervention on his part would be utterly unwelcome by Obi-Wan, he went back to spinning his bowl in circles on the tabletop. Obi-Wan caught the reader deftly and positioned himself cross-legged on the couch, settling his plate on his knee. Qui-Gon eyed it inquisitively for a moment.

"Something healthy, Padawan?"

"Mm?" Obi-Wan, already deep in his reading, looked up in confusion. "Healthy what?"

"What are you eating?" Qui-Gon clarified his statement.

"Oh. Cake." Obi-Wan returned to his reading, but Qui-Gon's curiosity was up.

"Cake? I can't recall having any cake … "

Obi-Wan's gaze lifted again, this time a little impatient, and Qui-Gon had to remind himself that it was still early morning yet and Obi-Wan hadn't quite settled into Perfect Mode. "Yes. In the fridge, Master."

Something was itching at Qui-Gon's brain, something he felt was important to remember, and it clicked when Anakin gave a loud gasp and darted to the refrigerator, throwing open the door and standing on his tiptoes to retrieve something from the top shelf.

"Obi-Wan!" he gasped in shocked horror, "You ate my birthday cake!"

"Huh?" Obi-Wan asked. "Birthday?"

_Oh,_ Qui-Gon thought. _Damn._

Tears welled in Anakin's large, innocent eyes as he sadly displayed the remains of his cake to the Jedi Master. Sure enough, the cake that had proudly proclaimed Anakin's birthday and a tiny icing picture of an R2 unit was missing a rather substantial chunk of the droid's small dome and now read, 'PPY BIRTHDAY, ANAKIN'

"Oh," Obi-Wan said contritely, eyeing the small portion of cake left on his plate, thinking it ironic but pretty damned amusing in an abstract sort of way that the word 'HA' was staring back at him, like he and the cake were sharing a private joke. "Ummm … "

"This is the worst birthday ever!" Anakin sniffed. "I hate it here! I wanna go home!"

Qui-Gon saw the hopeful look cross Obi-Wan's face, but he couldn't bring himself to chastise the Padawan for it. He'd had many a similar wish himself since they'd returned from Tatooine. He did, however, try to placate the boy.

"Anakin, I'm sure Obi-Wan just wasn't paying attention, and of course he didn't mean to eat your birthday cake. And I'm sure he's very sorry. Obi-Wan," the Jedi Master prodded, "don't you have something to say to Anakin?"

Anakin turned expectant eyes on the Padawan, greedy for a display of Obi-Wan's remorse. Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Life sucks, so suck it up?" he suggested. "Focus on the present? Use the Force?"

Qui-Gon sighed, dropping his head into his large palms. It was going to be a very long day.

OoOoOoOo

I haven't decided if this is a one-shot or if the Muse is just getting started, but please drop a note to say hi …it'd be nice to hear from anyone brave enough to make it to the end of the story (or chapter, or whatever). Thanks!


	2. Two Weeks

I am so glad to see I'm not the only one fast-forwarding through so much of the Prequels. I caught a bit of an Anakin and Padmé on Naboo scene the other day when Episode II was on tv… I haven't seen any of those bits since I saw the movies in the theater, and I was actually stunned at how annoyingly bad that picnic scene is. I had completely blocked all of the non-Obi-Wan parts of Episode II from my mind and now I remember why.

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Also an amused and grateful thank you to gurnius, whose comment regarding the Will of the Force as it pertained to oatmeal was so funny I couldn't not put it in. Thanks, and I hope it's okay that I used it – if you had an account I could message, I would have PM'd you to ask first. :-)

And now, thanks to everyone who reviewed, the ridiculousness continues …

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Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Two: Two Weeks until Obi-Wan's Trials

In the end, it was only Qui-Gon promising Anakin a very large and very spectacular birthday party that settled the junior Padawan's crippling despair over Obi-Wan having eaten for breakfast a chunk out of his birthday cake. Qui-Gon admitted reluctantly that throwing an extravagant party was a very un-Jedi like thing to do – after all, Obi-Wan had once only received a _**rock**_ for his birthday, and that was in a good year – but as Obi-Wan pointed out quite often now, these were very un-Jedi-like times in the Jinn/Kenobi/Skywalker apartments. And it wasn't _**every**_ Jedi Master who had the opportunity to train the legendary Chosen One, so if a party was what it took to make Anakin happy, then Qui-Gon would throw the best – really, the only – birthday party the Jedi Temple had ever seen.

"_Da da da da dum duuuuuuuuum_," Obi-Wan chimed under his breath, still loud enough for Qui-Gon to hear, of course. He sat at the dining room table with his Master; in an enforced act of contrition over his involvement in the cake fiasco, he was meticulously assembling invitations for Anakin's "big day."

"You hush," Qui-Gon said sternly, staring at the datapad in his hand that contained the guest list he'd assembled for Anakin's party. So far he had: Anakin, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Obi-Wan Kenobi.* At the bottom he noted: * = 'tentative.'

"And stay in your own head," he added. "Don't forget your braid is within yanking range."

"I can't help that your excitement is so palpable," Obi-Wan refuted, returning Qui-Gon's scallop-edged crafting scissors to the basket on the table. "And why shouldn't it be? _The Chosen One,_" he whispered in faux awe, blue-grey eyes sparkling as he smiled teasingly at his Master. "Damn good thing you don't have to worry about _**this**_ shoddy apprentice anymore," he gestured toward himself mockingly. His expressive mouth twisted as he considered. "I was like … the _**Not **_Chosen One. Da da daaaaa… " his quiet, lackluster drumroll trailed off sadly.

Qui-Gon eyed his apprentice reproachfully. "You are never to have cake for breakfast again, young one, do you understand me?"

Obi-Wan's amused expression rippled into one of sincere earnestness. "I am sorry about the cake, Master, I know that its partial destruction has caused you terrible angst."

"It really has," Qui-Gon agreed, doodling on a corner of the guest list. "Was there any possible way you could have _**not **_eaten the only thing in the fridge that was important to Anakin?"

Obi-Wan shrugged guilelessly, his tone serious. "Perhaps. However I can only presume the aforementioned confectionary ruin could only have been the Will of the Force."

Despite himself and knowing he would regret it, Qui-Gon still couldn't stop the question before it dragged from his lips. "What?"

"Well," and Qui-Gon knew he had already lost when a sliver of a smile darted back across Kenobi's somber face. "Master, if the oatmeal you had prepared for me wouldn't have been eaten by Anakin, I would never have had to look in the fridge nor seen the cake. I can only deduce it was the Will of the Force that I find it and eat it, and you know as well as I that as a Jedi I cannot knowingly and willfully go against the Will of the Force."

"Oh, Obi-Wan … Force … " Qui-Gon's head dropped wearily into his upraised palms. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" he sighed, though an answering smile stole grudgingly through at his apprentice's quiet mirth. "Could you just finish the invitations for Anakin's party, please?"

"Sure," Obi-Wan agreed solemnly, though Qui-Gon was grateful for the now too-rare flippancy from his Padawan. Things had been far too tense between them since Qui-Gon had formally renounced his apprenticeship of Obi-Wan Kenobi before the entire Jedi Council without informing the young Padawan first.

Initially, the Council had rejected Qui-Gon's first bid to take Anakin as his new apprentice; however once Obi-Wan defeated a Sith Warrior on Naboo their collective opinion had changed. Obi-Wan's Trial ceremony was set to take place in two Standard weeks – and the way was then clear for Anakin to become Qui-Gon's official Padawan.

Qui-Gon had noticed that Obi-Wan had become quiet and detached in the short time since their unexpected yet profitable stopover on Tatooine, though whether it was from killing the Sith or perhaps preparing to shoulder the burdens of Knighthood the Jedi Master didn't know. It was the kind of question he would have asked his apprentice, tried to help him sort through, if he himself hadn't taken on the awesome responsibility of preparing to train the Chosen One and was now fully immersed in getting himself ready for that tremendous task.

"_Da da da da dum duuuum_…"

"Obi-Wan – "

"I can't help it if you think 'Chosen One' rather loudly, Master," Obi-Wan protested mildly. "All right, look at this." Qui-Gon lifted his wary eyes to see Obi-Wan holding up a practice invitation on which he had neatly printed the words 'You've been Chosen to attend Anakin's special event!' along with an actually rather well-drawn sketch of a podracer. He had specifically capitalized "Chosen," just in case Qui-Gon somehow missed the underlying joke.

Qui-Gon hadn't missed the joke, however, and he rubbed the bumpy bridge of his nose tiredly. "I don't think so, Padawan."

"Fine." Obi-Wan picked up another sketch. "How about 'You're the Chosen One for this special day?'" he suggested cheerfully to Qui-Gon, pointing at the picture of a completely intact birthday cake he had painstakingly outlined with glitter.

"You're not helping, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon mumbled with a sigh.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that," Obi-Wan replied happily, rising from his seated position and stretching the kinks out of his knees. "I have so many other things to do – "

"Hold it, Padawan," Qui-Gon interjected frostily, halting Obi-Wan's escape. "You know that's not what I meant. Sit your ass back down and keep gluing."

Obi-Wan sighed and resumed his former place at the table, half-heartedly slopping some glue onto one of Anakin's party invitations and affixing a tiny sticker of some colored balloons.

"Who are we even going to send these to?" he questioned, frowning at a glob of glue that had had the audacity to affix itself to his finger instead of the invitation. "Anakin doesn't even know anyone here – he's only been here a few weeks."

"Ah. Well … " Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair, an embarrassed smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "I was thinking that perhaps you could take a ship to Tatooine and retrieve some of Anakin's friends. And perhaps Amidala from Naboo – " An icy glare from Obi-Wan's blue-grey eyes froze the hopeful words tumbling from Qui-Gon's lips and they hung accusingly in the air between the Padawan and his now-silent Master, quietly punishing the one who had dared to suggest such a thing.

One long finger now devoid of glue leveled sternly in Qui-Gon's direction.

"If you send me to do that, Master, I swear to you now that I will not come back."

Qui-Gon nodded shortly, fairly certain that Obi-Wan meant it.

"Well, we'll figure that out later," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "After all, we still have a few weeks until the party."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said dryly, swirling a finger idly in the jar of glitter. "Nothing else important coming up."

Qui-Gon shot his Senior Padawan a long-suffering look. "Yes, Obi-Wan, I _**know**_ your Trials are also just a few short weeks away. You oughtn't worry at all, though – you _**did **_defeat that Sith Lord on Naboo, and there hasn't been a Jedi in ages who has ever even _**seen**_ a Sith, let alone saved a Jedi Master and a queen."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan nodded solemnly, brow furrowed. "Too bad about Jar Jar though."

Both Jedi sensed the exuberant new presence a half-second before Anakin burst into the room, all smiles.

"Hey, Qui-Gon, hey, Obi-Wan!"

"_**Master**_ Qui-Gon," the older Jedi corrected mildly.

"Sure, Qui-Gon," Anakin nodded, perusing the invitations critically, missing only the "Chosen One" templates Obi-Wan discreetly brushed off the table with a sweep of his white tunic sleeve. "Are these for my party?"

Obi-Wan's expression wrinkled perplexedly as he noted the name "Anakin" and the word "party" neatly and visibly printed on every single invitation on the table. "I'm not sure," he answered.

"Padawan, really?" Qui-Gon shot Obi-Wan a disapproving look before turning a brilliant smile on the small boy bouncing near his elbow. "How was your Jedi History class today, Anakin?"

"Booooooooring," Anakin scoffed, fiddling with the nearest invitation. "Why do I need to know about a bunch of old Jedi? Why don't they teach a class about podracing – I could probably teach that class! Hey, where's the guest list for my party? Did you put Padmé on it?"

"We haven't finished it yet," Qui-Gon replied, shifting slightly as Anakin craned around him to more closely survey the unfinished invitations.

"Well, make sure you invite Padmé!" Anakin instructed, "I'm gonna marry her someday!"

"Yeah, that's not creepy at all," Obi-Wan muttered. "Don't you think she's a little old for you?"

"Not now, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon interjected severely as he sent the frowning Jedi a pointed glare.

"That doesn't matter!" Anakin was undeterred. "She'll love me for my podracing!"

"Anakin, I think you need to focus on your studies, rather than podracing, right now," Qui-Gon commented, ignoring the way Obi-Wan's lips moved soundlessly in time with Anakin's next words:

"But I'm the only human who can do it!"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the table, his aggravation evident. "If you'll excuse me," he said, somewhat testily in that trying-to-sound-amused-so-no-one-knows-how-upset-I-am way of his. After so many years, Qui-Gon could see through it easily and he let the Padawan go without protest. "I really need to … meditate. For awhile. A long while."

Anakin watched the older Padawan leave, his small features crinkling in disgust. "Meditation is so boring," he commented, climbing into Obi-Wan's vacant chair and surveying the abandoned invitations littering the table. "He really does try hard though, doesn't he, Qui-Gon?" he commented sagely. "Good old Obi-Wan… he'll make a good Jedi someday."

Qui-Gon allowed a small smile, pleased by Anakin's compassion and not bothering to correct Anakin that, as a Padawan, Obi-Wan was technically _**already**_ a Jedi. "Yes, Anakin, I think Obi-Wan will be a very good Jedi very soon."

"Will he still live here with us?" Anakin questioned, trying to sound casual but Qui-Gon could detect the undercurrent of jealousy flowing beneath the pointed question.

"No, I don't think so." Qui-Gon reached over to lay a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Obi-Wan will have his own assignments to take care of." He could still sense negative emotions roiling beneath the surface of Anakin's cheer and he squeezed the boy's small shoulder warmly. "Is something else bothering you, Anakin?"

"Sort of, I guess. How long will I be your apprentice, Qui-Gon?" Anakin wanted to know.

"Until you're ready to be a Jedi Knight," Qui-Gon smiled. "When you've finished all of your training." Anakin still frowned and Qui-Gon levered himself out of the chair so he was at the little Padawan's eye level. "What is it, Anakin?"

"Well … Qui-Gon… sir … I was wondering if you would get rid of me the way you're getting rid of Obi-Wan."

"What?" Qui-Gon couldn't have been more startled if Anakin had suggested that _**he**_ would marry Amidala someday. "I am not getting rid of Obi-Wan," he said indignantly. "Obi-Wan is a Senior Padawan who has completed all of his required training _**and**_ successfully defeated a Sith fighter. There is little more I can teach him."

"Oh. Uh, okay." Anakin didn't sound convinced, but his attention was caught suddenly by the empty invitation list. "Hey – you haven't even invited anyone to my party yet! We have to invite mom – can she come? And she can bring Threepio! – and Padmé, if she's not too busy being a queen and all, I really want to see her … "

Anakin's voice dulled to an exuberant hum in the background of Qui-Gon's mind, but his worried questions about Qui-Gon's soon-to-be-former Padawan stuck with the Jedi Master for a long time afterward.

OoOoOoOo

_Deep calm, flowing through him, wrapping his mind in comforting bonds of solitude as he slowly sank deeper into the peace of the Force. Nothing reached him here, it was just him and the Force as he slowly sought guidance and strength to prepare for his Trials ahead … _

"Whatcha' doin', Obi-Wan?"

_Deeper calm, flowing deeper through him, deeply wrapping his mind in very quiet and comforting bonds of solitude … _

"Are you meditating? I'm learning how to meditate. Qui-Gon's teaching me! I bet I'll be good at it!"

_Even deeper calm, flowing __**extremely deeply **__through him … comforting bonds … solitude … __**very deep **__in the peace of the Force … _

"Wow, you're really good at this! Can you even hear me, Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan? Can you hear me when you're meditating?"

… _just him and the Force … _

* * *

well, you made it this far, so please take just one tiny minute to review. You'll make my day!


	3. Eleven Days

Thank you for the reviews! I also am highly amused by and appreciate suggestions for quips, scenarios, and anything readers might like to see in these days leading up to poor Obi-Wan's Trials. Unlike the other Star Wars fics that I post, this story doesn't actually have an outline and story notes, it's just bits of ridiculousness with a dash of angst thrown in for flavor, so I am totally open to suggestions or things readers would like to see, and proper credit will be given to any ideas utilized. :)

… and so, the madness continues…

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Three: Eleven Days Until Obi-Wan's Trials

Unveiled and – he felt – unwarranted skepticism hung heavily in the tense and somber air; it was almost like that singularly pronounced and cultivated facet of Obi-Wan Kenobi's personality had been somehow reborn into each and every Council member who now eyed him warily, varying levels of disbelief etched into each incredulous expression that stared him down where he stood in the center of the room. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn stood his ground firmly – he had rebelled against the Council's interpretation of the Code so many times before that by now his week wasn't complete without at least one negative interaction with the perpetually frowning Council members.

"A party, we hear you are wanting to have," Yoda charged gravely.

"Specifically, a birthday party for young Skywalker," Mace Windu clarified, as helpful as usual and as equally grimly, the red tailights from traffic outside the chamber windows glinting off of his spectacularly polished head.

Obi-Wan probably felt right at home here amidst all the glowering, Qui-Gon surmised rather waspishly; he was still miffed at his Padawan not only for the Cake Debacle and Obi-Wan's Subsequent Reasoning of his Innocence, but also for the young man's refusal to journey to Tatooine to retrieve some of Anakin's friends for the celebration Qui-Gon was meticulously planning on somewhat short notice (also Obi-Wan's fault: see above reference to the Cake Debacle that led to the Unfortunate Last Minute Party Planning.)

Qui-Gon shook off his wandering thoughts; he needed to focus, to sway the Council members with his infallible chain of logic.

"Of course," the Jedi Master replied smoothly, taking a page from Obi-Wan's Perfect Padawan manual on being perfectly Respectfully Mindful. "How can we not celebrate the birthday of the Chosen One?" he reasoned pointedly. "He has been uprooted from his home and his way of life, from everything that he has known. It is a small kindness within our means to offer to gather those who wish to celebrate not only the day of his birth, but also his presence here and the bright future he presents for the Jedi."

Behind him and to the right, silent and deferential despite the unfortunate result from the _**last **_time they had stood before this assembled Council, Obi-Wan rustled slightly. _Wow,_ drifted through Qui-Gon's mind, but thankfully there was no drumroll attached to Obi-Wan's wry sentiment. Qui-Gon ignored him.

"I do not believe a party of any kind would be acceptable at this time, Master Qui-Gon," Mace commented sternly. "We are still in the process of assisting the Nubians with their rebuilding, the Trade Federation needs to be dealt with – "

"And yet," Qui-Gon interrupted calmly, drawing even deeper frowns from those seated around him, "how can we not show the Chosen One that we are his family now and that he is appreciated here? You must agree that adjusting to the way of the Jedi will be more difficult for him as he is older than our standard Initiates."

"Master Qui-Gon, Masters of the Council…" Hesitantly, Obi-Wan spoke up, and though he stood behind Qui-Gon and the Jedi Master couldn't see his face, Qui-Gon could still hear the concerned grimace in the dulcet voice he had grown so accustomed to over the years. "Respectfully, I do not think that catering to Anakin will help him adjust to life in the Temple any easier … "

Qui-Gon rounded on his soon-to-be-former Padawan, a thin smile stretched across his face and he forced enthusiasm he didn't feel into his voice. "You just don't want to work on any more invitations, Padawan," he joked tautly, ignoring the way Obi-Wan's expression hardened unpleasantly. "With all due respect, Masters," he continued smoothly, "I intend to have a celebration for Anakin with or without your approval. I would prefer that it were with your approval so Anakin will feel more welcome by you, but if I need to go elsewhere to show some small appreciation for one who did so much to aid us on Naboo, I will certainly do so."

Yoda looked at Mace. Mace looked at Adi Gallia. Adi Gallia looked at Obi-Wan, the pity in her dark eyes clear. Painfully silent, Obi-Wan focused on the gleaming tips of his perfectly polished boots.

Finally, Yoda sighed heavily. "Stop you from this foolishness, we will not. Ahead you may go with your party if dissuade you we cannot."

A pleased smile settled on Qui-Gon's lined face and he bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Masters."

He strode from the chambers, Obi-Wan quietly in step behind him – waiting only until Qui-Gon was already walking toward the door before moving to follow him – and suddenly the Jedi Master turned back to regard the Council members seriously, an inquisitive eyebrow lifted.

"How many of you can I put down as attending the party, then?"

OoOoOoOo

Qui-Gon perused his checklist carefully. "Streamers?"

Quietly surveying the assembled mess on the table, Obi-Wan nodded. "Check."

"Balloons?"

"Check."

"A _**new, completely intact**_ cake?"

A frown. "Check."

"And you'll swing over to Tatooine to pick up the guests?"

Silence greeted his hopeful query for a moment, and then a longsuffering sigh. "Really? Like, you were totally going to trap me into saying I would go just like that?"

"It'll just be a short trip," Qui-Gon commented encouragingly, "almost like a quick vacation."

"I. Said. No."

And that was that.

OoOoOoOo

He was still smarting from Qui-Gon's earlier dismissal before the Council and tiredly anticipating the approaching day where he would no longer be required to attend with his Master when it seemed that one of Qui-Gon's main purposes was to humiliate him before those whose respect he sought to earn. Obi-Wan swore to himself that he would never so callously treat one who had faithfully stood by him for years whether his Padawan agreed with him or not, and that he would always give his Padawan the benefit of the doubt.

The Dark Side, Obi-Wan Kenobi reflected wearily, was looking better and better every day. Like, it wasn't quite bad enough to be drumroll worthy – after all, only _**One **_held that honor – but still there could be some merit there, an opportunity for a renounced Padawan to Join the Dark Side and See the Galaxy.

Of course, he didn't really _**mean**_ it, had no intention of actually and intentionally joining the Dark Side, but after spending a few months residing with both Qui-Gon and Anakin in the same apartment and being daily subjected to the complete and utter upheaval of the routine that had seen him through many years of rejection, injuries, and angst, Obi-Wan was fairly certain that the Sith really had something going for them with that whole 'there can only be two' theory.

Seriously.

Obi-Wan's Routine for Coping had included several Vital Elements, and he had been carefully constructing said routine for quite a long time. He could hardly be blamed for it, seeing as how he had been subjected to far more misery and angst than pretty much any other Padawan before him. Based on his Padawan years, he could hardly _**wait **_to see what Knighthood held for him: perhaps he would be encased in carbonite, or have to fight a multi-armed robot hybrid – or worse, he would end up with a Padawan like Anakin. _**That**_ made him laugh and shake his head – the odds of that happening were astronomical and not even worth considering.

The most disrupted part to date of Obi-Wan's Routine was his desire for Silence – necessary for meditation and thinking, and also for working out the plotline and notes for the fanfiction he was writing in his spare time. There was just no peace around the apartment anymore as Qui-Gon, for some inexplicable reason, had clearly become too lazy to chase Anakin around if he had a question (not surprising since, based on the noise level erupting from such a small person, Anakin apparently possessed the ability to be in roughly seven places simultaneously and how would Qui-Gon even know where to look to find the real Anakin?) Therefore, Qui-Gon now did 98% of his non-training-related communication with Anakin via shouting.

Such as now.

"Anakin? Did you reprogram the cleaning droid again?" Qui-Gon barked from the common room, irritation lacing his voice as he discovered that his massive library of books had been shuffled out of alphabetical order and arranged so that, when read straight across, the first letter of every book on the top shelf spelled out 'ANAKIN IS AWESOME.'

"What, Qui-Gon?" shouted back from Anakin in his bedroom, where he was bouncing on his bed with a starfighter model in each hand, making little engine noises interspersed with the sound of firing laser cannons.

"I said: did you reprogram the cleaning droid again?" Qui-Gon's aggravation only grew as he noticed the second shelf of books had been positioned to read: "THE ONLY HUMAN WHO CAN DO IT."

"_vrooooom vroooooooom shooka shooka – __**What?**_ I can't hear you, Qui-Gon!"

Obi-Wan very gently rested his head on his folded arms, wondering if it was worth soundproofing his room for the next eleven days until his official Knighting ceremony.

"Oh, for Force's sake!"

There was a knock on Obi-Wan's door and without waiting for an answer Qui-Gon had poked his head through the doorway.

"Now's not the time for a nap, Obi-Wan," he commented incredulously.

With a sigh, Obi-Wan lifted his head from the desk. "I wasn't napping, I was – "

Qui-Gon waved a hand. "Nevermind. Have you noticed any problems with the cleaning droid lately?"

Obi-Wan's guileless grey eyes were wide. "None at all, Master, but you do know that droids do tend to act up on occasion as a result of sometimes faulty wiring."

Qui-Gon's frustration eased a little. "That's true," he conceded, "but it does seem that Anakin is always busy rewiring something."

"Like the dishwasher," Obi-Wan agreed. "And the garbage disposal."

His expression darkening again, Qui-Gon nodded, but his momentary frustration was quickly eclipsed by a bright wave of pride. "He does have a superb amount of talent, doesn't he, Obi-Wan?" the Jedi Master pronounced warmly.

Obi-Wan nodded obediently. "Of course, Master," he agreed mildly.

Qui-Gon smiled, comforted. "I expected no less from the Chosen One," he confided.

Obi-Wan returned the smile, again wondering about the logistics of that whole 'there can only be two' thing, and also supremely glad that Qui-Gon hadn't thought to look at the third shelf of books which he himself had arranged after noticing the changes by Anakin – or the cleaning droid – to the first two shelves. He could just see Qui-Gon's bookcase from where he sat at his desk, and as his eye caught on the third shelf he grinned, relieved that Qui-Gon's ten-volume set on Ugnaught History had finally been put to good use.

"No less from the Chosen One," he echoed his Master with a smile.

"DUM DUM DE DUM DUUUUM," proclaimed the third shelf.


	4. Ten Days

Please read and review, and feel free to post/pm suggestions for anything ridiculous you might like to see in this wry countdown to Obi-Wan's Trials ceremony. I like Qui-Gon, but Ridiculously Oblivious Qui-Gon makes me laugh, so that's who he is in this fic.

Sorry about the delay in updating. I never hold a chapter hostage until I get a certain number of reviews, but I will admit that there are days when I log on to thinking, _okay, the next story to get reviewed gets updated today! No excuses!_ _Start writing! _Shrug. Motivation. So, no new reviews for any fic since the last time I logged on, but I finished the chap anyway so it's all good. :-) Although I will concede that I almost scrapped this entire chap … it's too serious for the story, I think.

* * *

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Four: Ten Days Until Obi-Wan's Trials

_Beniwan son of Jinnobi rose from his seat at the Council, his silky ginger hair gleaming in the warm caress of the sun. A long-lost descendant of Isuldir, Beniwan could also lay claim to the One Ring and the throne of Gondor, though his impeccable sense of honour prevented him from usurping the Ranger Aragorn's claim to Kingship. Beniwan's wise blue-grey eyes gleamed with knowledge gained over his long years – a knowledge rivaled only by Elrond, wisest of all living Elves. _

_Beniwan nodded solemnly at the assembled Council as his good friend Legolas the Elf urged him on with an encouraging gesture. _

"_I cannot in good conscience refuse your request, Lord Elrond;" he declared, his stately manner impressing all who listened to his warmly regal voice. "I shall of course accompany Frodo on his quest to destroy the One Ring … "_

"Obi-Wan?"

Qui-Gon Jinn poked his head into Obi-Wan's small room, where the deeply concentrating Padawan sat typing earnestly at his computer. At Qui-Gon's appearance, Obi-Wan hastily closed the window he had been working in, the word processing program automatically saving the recently entered text.

"Obi-Wan, I require your assistance," Qui-Gon stated gravely. "We have a few things to finish before the event that is approaching and your input is imperative."

Obi-Wan ducked his head shyly, his long, thin Padawan braid sliding out from behind his ear to brush across his face. "Master, with so much to do amidst the preparation for Anakin's party, you needn't go out of your way to plan something for my Knighting as well … "

"What?" Qui-Gon looked confused for a moment. "Oh," he realized, hastening to add, "no, no; I _**am **_planning Anakin's party. I need your help."

"Ah, I see." Obi-Wan's lips tightened firmly as he rose from his desk chair. "Of course," he concurred, a wry vein of humor softening the dryness of his voice. Qui-Gon clapped him warmly on the shoulder as the Padawan strode past him.

"Why would we celebrate your Trials?" Qui-Gon consoled reassuringly. "The Jedi don't do extravagant things like that, you know that, Obi-Wan." He led Obi-Wan to the common room, which now contained an assortment of streamers, gift bags, party hats, brightly colored tableware, and bagged confetti, as well as a collection of chips and carbonated beverages placed neatly on a small folding table in the corner.

"That's true," Obi-Wan conceded, glancing around, "we really don't."

Qui-Gon nodded in agreement. "Just so. Now, take a look at this," he instructed, hoisting for Obi-Wan to see a grey sphere somewhat bigger than his head. Darker intersecting lines crisscrossed the sphere, and small points of white dotted it here and there. "What do you think?"

"Is it a moon?" Obi-Wan queried, confused by the rather menacing-looking object.

"It's a piñata," Qui-Gon clarified helpfully. "It has candy in it."

Obi-Wan frowned, still unsure of the sphere's purpose. "Why would anyone want a piñata of a moon? Is that what all the kids are asking for?" It didn't escape Obi-Wan's notice that he and Qui-Gon were perhaps the two least likely people on the entire planet to know what the popular definition of "cool" was these days.

Qui-Gon _hmphed_ in frustration. "It's not a moon, it's a space station."

Obi-Wan's brow wrinkled. "It doesn't look like any space station I've ever seen," he commented.

"Me neither," Qui-Gon agreed excitedly, "but I saw the design in some of Anakin's art sketches. He'll be so pleased that I noticed!"

Obi-Wan, who had just yesterday and apparently without Qui-Gon noticing drafted the designs for the newest Temple starship – he was calling it the Jedi Starfighter, which he thought sounded pretty damned "cool" – nodded. "Mmhm. Why is it indented here?" he gestured questioningly to a fist-sized circular impression in the grey sphere.

Qui-Gon shrugged unconcernedly. "I'm not certain. Probably just for cosmetic reasons. I intend to put a training remote in it so it will hover, what do you think?"

Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "I think it's a good thing Jedi don't do the whole 'extravagant' thing." Hesitation slid across the Padawan's expression as a thought occurred to him. "Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon glanced up from his perusal of the grey sphere. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan shifted slightly, unusually nervous. "I am a little concerned about preparing for the Trials ceremony. I was informed by Master Yoda that the Padawan traditionally spends time in solitude with his or her Master as a final preparation and also for saying … well, for saying goodbye. And severing the training bond, also."

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly. "That is so, Padawan."

It was quiet for a moment before Obi-Wan finally ventured, "Will there be time, then, before the ceremony that we can sit down and go over these things?"

The Jedi Master smiled warmly. "I shall certainly try to set aside the time we shall need, Padawan."

"Good. Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan nodded; it wasn't a commitment, but it was something.

"You know, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon mused off-handedly, innocence honeying his tone but his ice blue eyes were determined. "We would have quite a bit of time to wrap things up if we took that quick trip to Tatooine together."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I think I need to go mediate on that," he said.

OoOoOoOo

It didn't hurt quite so much anymore, this being shuffled aside as if he no longer _**mattered**_, which wasn't to say that it didn't _**not**_ hurt, it just wasn't the shocked, abruptly crippling pain he'd felt the first time Qui-Gon had humiliated him before the Council. It was more like a dull ache that snuck up on him when he wasn't guarding against it.

Obi-Wan tossed a pebble into the fountain – not really something he was supposed to do, but there were like a Thousand Fountains in the appropriately named Room of a Thousand Fountains, so maybe no one would notice.

The Room itself was beautiful, liberally saturated with greenery and stone walkways, and secluded areas designated for quiet meditation. Obi-Wan came here often; as one not easily-attuned to the Living Force, it helped his perception somewhat to be so surrounded by all manner of natural life, from the other Jedi who frequented the Room to the plants and small creatures living here that sang sweet songs in honor of the Living Force.

As the sun sank below the edges of the large picture windows and illuminated the fronds gently waving in the circulating air with a warm red glow, Obi-Wan's intention had been to meditate – he had given up meditating at the apartment after finding that Anakin's repeated interruptions made it nearly impossible to focus – but had found himself merely thinking instead, wondering what it would be like to be on his own. The prospect was simultaneously exciting and daunting, but Obi-Wan was determined not to back down, and not to disappoint his soon-to-be-former Master nor the members of the Council. There had to be a way to please them both, if he could just figure out how.

After awhile of tossing pebbles into a fountain and _**not**_ meditating, the evening hours drifted away until it was quite dark outside the windows. Obi-Wan rose stiffly, heading back to the apartments he continued to share with Qui-Gon and Anakin.

"Hey, Obi-Wan, welcome back!"

Whatever else he might feel about Anakin, Obi-Wan did always have to smile a little at the child's enthusiasm. Anakin had a way of making one feel like he was truly glad to see them, and share in any good news as cheerfully as if it were his own.

"Hello, Anakin," he returned easily. "How are you this afternoon? How were your classes?"

"Okay. Boring."

"What are you working on?" Obi-Wan settled himself at the table next to where Anakin was busy amidst a pile of drawing pads. Anakin carefully slid over a sketch for Obi-Wan's perusal, and Obi-Wan was surprised to see that Anakin was going over the designs he'd drafted for the Starfighter, even making notes in the margins – based, Obi-Wan supposed, on whatever mechanical knowledge the boy had gained working for Watto in the junk shop on Tatooine.

Obi-Wan, too curious to be offended by Anakin's boldness, scanned Anakin's proposed changes approvingly. "What's this about?" he asked, stabbing a long finger at one of Anakin's notations inquisitively.

Anakin leaned over, his small features scrunching thoughtfully. "You have the hyperspace engines attached in a semi-circle. If you make it a full circle, it'll be easier to dock into." He grinned happily. "Plus, it looks cooler."

"Hm." Obi-Wan considered thoughtfully. "It would also help maintain the structural integrity of the hyperspace ring and provide better balance for the ship when attached." He smiled, pleased, and ruffled Anakin's sandy blonde hair lightly. "Nice work, Anakin, thank you. I shall show the amended sketches to the other designers tomorrow."

Anakin beamed. "Sure! I've been working around spaceships all my life!"

Obi-Wan let that one slide, deciding not to comment on the statistical improbability of Anakin's statement. "Anakin," he asked quietly, "are you looking forward to the party Master Qui-Gon is planning for you?"

"Of course!" Anakin bobbed excitedly in his chair. "Who wouldn't be? Master Qui-Gon said he would try to have all of my friends from home come – that'd be so wizard! I really miss them, and mom," he confided. "I like it here, but I feel kinda alone. But you and Qui-Gon are really nice!" he added hastily, to spare Obi-Wan any hurt feelings.

The small boy's words reminded Obi-Wan of another Initiate who had once felt the same way; though young Obi-Wan hadn't had the security that Anakin did of knowing that he would be chosen to be a Padawan rather than being shipped off to the AgriCorps to raise food for those fortunate enough to be selected for training. He smiled wanly at Anakin.

"Well, I'm sure if Qui-Gon said he would bring your friends, then he certainly will try. Master Qui-Gon strives to be a man of his word."

Anakin's brilliant smile lit up his entire face. "I hope so," he agreed. "It'd be cool if they could all see where I am now! I'm gonna be the best Jedi there ever was! Except for maybe Master Qui-Gon," he amended brightly.

They looked over the sketches a bit more until eventually Anakin grew bored and abandoned Obi-Wan, leaving the older Padawan sitting quietly at the table, deep in thought where Qui-Gon found him a short time later.

"Good evening, Padawan," Qui-Gon greeted. "How is your day going?"

"All right," Obi-Wan sighed resignedly, before Qui-Gon could say anything further. "I'll go to Tatooine with you."

Qui-Gon smiled warmly, squeezing Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Thank you, Padawan."

OoOoOoOo

For the third time that week, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood before the Jedi Council (the previous two times being once about Anakin's party and once about a minor infraction involving Obi-Wan throwing pebbles into the fountains in the Room of a Thousand Fountains – Obi-Wan guessed that someone actually _**had**_ noticed and rather ingraciously ratted him out).

This time, they were accompanied by Anakin Skywalker, standing solemnly next to Qui-Gon, who was proudly addressing the Council members present.

"We are requesting a brief leave of absence to return to Tatooine … "

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Yeah, I don't know. Something about Obi-Wan writing a Mary Sue/Tenth Walker Lord of the Rings fic cracked me up.

Thanks to pronker for the Death Star piñata idea – we haven't seen the last of that by a long shot. :-) Also thanks to gurnius for the awesome one-liners, and also to everyone who has referred to Anakin as Bratkins, Bratakins, or some variation thereof – that's freakin' hilarious :-D


	5. Nine Days

Thank you for the great reviews readers of this fic are leaving! Your ideas crack me up and feed the Muse and I appreciate the kindness of those who take a minute out of their day to leave a comment or idea. Thank you!

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Five: Nine Days Until Obi-Wan's Trials

"… we are requesting a brief leave of absence to return to Tatooine," Qui-Gon stated forcefully, though politely adding by way of explanation: "We need to retrieve additional guests for Anakin's birthday celebration."

Yoda, sitting disconsolately in his Council chair – mostly because he couldn't get out of the chair without help – sighed a longsuffering sigh approximately eight-hundred-eighty years in the making, his long green ears drooping wearily.

"More extravagant by the day, this party grows, Master Qui-Gon," he contested unhappily, wriggling in his chair a little. "Afraid this business about the Chosen One, to your head has gone."

Qui-Gon drew himself up proudly, towering over the seated Council members and also Obi-Wan who stood silently nearby carefully biding his time until he could escape to the Room of a Thousand Fountains and retrieve the remaining rocks he had tossed into one of the fountains before he got in trouble for _**those**_, too. It didn't help that he had scratched 'Obi-Wan Kenobi' into the rocks using a small, chalky pebble, though if it came down to it he could probably pin the blame on Anakin trying to frame him. Obi-Wan was fairly certain that the Council would believe him over Anakin if necessary.

_I'm also pretty sure I should be ashamed of myself for even thinking that,_ Obi-Wan mused offhandedly.

"As the Master of the Chosen One, I resent that remark," Qui-Gon announced shortly, ignoring the drumroll that suddenly sounded in the back of his mind.

Anakin stepped forward boldly, elbowing Obi-Wan out of his usual place just behind and to the right of Qui-Gon, a perfect, tiny imitation of Qui-Gon at his _doth-protest-too-much!_ best. "And as the Chosen One I say we can go!"

"I don't think that's an adequate reason," Mace protested severely, his usual frown crumpling his face until it was nearly as wrinkled as Yoda's. "We have certain travel restrictions we feel are important – "

"Well, you're bald and you hate kids!" Anakin shot back.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan was scandalized, but Qui-Gon smiled proudly.

"See how well he learns from me?" he pointed out smugly. "Already refuting the way the Council tends to overstep its bounds. Travel restrictions, indeed." He and Anakin shared a congratulatory smile.

By now the Council was ready for them to leave the room – ready, in fact, to _**beg**_ them to leave for Tatooine so they could have a little peace and go back to debating things like how the ten-thousand-member-Galactic Senate _**ever**_ got anything done – but one last ditch effort by Mace Windu to seemingly protest the upcoming party was in order, though Qui-Gon knew it was all a front to help further the extravagant birthday celebration he was planning. He and Mace had been perfecting their "good Jedi/bad Jedi" routine for years, and everyone knew that Mace could never turn down a party – even now, Qui-Gon could see a hint of the Council member's screen tuxedo tee shirt through his russet Jedi robe.

"Are you sure it would be wise to take Anakin from the Council so soon?" Mace asked solemnly, his excited eyes betraying his somber expression. Qui-Gon had already explained to him that he was _**not**_ to turn Anakin's birthday party into an intergalactic kegger, but he knew the Council member lived in hope for any chance to show off his much-practiced 'moonwalking,' that he had indeed learned from the indigenous population of the third moon of the planet Yavin.

"Especially to Tatooine," Mace continued, "where he may wish to rejoin his mother and his friends permanently?"

Qui-Gon shook his head determinedly. "It will not be so. Anakin fully understands the awesome responsibility he carries as the future of the Jedi."

Beside him, Anakin grinned toothily while Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but Qui-Gon ignored them both. Anakin was still a child and his enthusiasm was to be expected, and Obi-Wan had never put much stock in the whole "Chosen One" thing.

_Dum dum de dum dummm,!_ echoed in his head, and he shot a glare at Obi-Wan, who shrugged innocently, a "that will _**never **_get old" expression on his young face.

Yoda shifted gravely in his chair, resignation written clearly across his wizened features. "Know you well enough this Council does, Master Jinn, to recognize that go ahead with your trip and your celebration you will, the wishes of this Council notwithstanding."

Mace nodded, struggling to keep an excited grin from his face. "Therefore, we are approving your request. And we also do expect to receive invitations to the party."

Qui-Gon smiled brilliantly, his hand on Anakin's shoulder as they bowed respectfully to the assembled Council. "I understand, Masters, and thank you."

OoOoOoOo

_I don't regret what I've done. I don't regret what I've done._

Qui-Gon hadn't wasted any time hurrying them aboard the small ship the Council had reluctantly assigned to them. Obi-Wan, to his glaring discomfort, was piloting.

_I should have stayed at the Temple,_ he thought with a sigh.

"What does this button do, Obi-Wan?"

"Comm control," Obi-Was answered shortly, wishing Anakin would find something in the lounge to do. He was already regretting his momentary lapse of reason that had led him to be here in the first place.

"Do you need any help? You can tell me what to do and I'll do it! I'm a really fast learner! You'd be amazed at how fast I learn things!"

"That's not necessary, Anakin."

_I don't regret it. It's for Qui-Gon. One last thing I can do to show gratitude for all of his effort in training me over the years. It can't have been easy; I'm not a very quick learner._

"Do you want me to pilot, Obi-Wan? I know I can do it! I'm sure it's a lot like podracing, and we don't even have to worry about Tusken Raiders shooting at us! So I bet it's easier than podracing!"

"No, but thank you. Please sit down."

"What about this button?" Anakin reached forward over Obi-Wan's shoulder to poke at a flashing white light; irritated, Obi-Wan brushed his small hand aside.

"Traveling through hyperspace isn't like podracing, Anakin," he said patiently. "Without precise calculations, we could bounce too close to a star or supernova, and that would end your party before it had even started, wouldn't it?"

Anakin sighed, loudly theatrical, and settled back into the co-pilot's seat. Qui-Gon stood behind him, watching proudly as Obi-Wan reluctantly answered Anakin's continued questions about the vast array of switches and dials on the pilot's board.

"How long will it take us to get there?" was Anakin's next question. "I'm kinda bored since you won't let me help."

"Too long, Anakin," Obi-Wan groused, then explained reluctantly, "But the simple answer to your question is that I can only give you an approximation as to how long the trip will take, as hyperspace travel times vary based on spatial interference between your departure and your destination."

"Oh, I see," Anakin's small face scrunched thoughtfully. "No, wait, no I don't."

Qui-Gon stepped in, easily settling into lecture mode. "When you're podracing, Anakin, it's not just a straight shot around the track; you have to account for the other racers and course hazards and maneuver around them to get where you're going safely."

"Ohhhhh," Comprehension lit Anakin's expression along with a knowing smile.

"So a trip between planets could take hours or days depending on disturbances that would need to be charted around," Obi-Wan added, actually enjoying the feel of working with Qui-Gon to explain the basics of hyperspace travel to Anakin. It was easy, relaxed, and it reminded him of the comfortable friendship he and Qui-Gon had enjoyed for most of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship … really, up until their initial visit to Tatooine.

_Wow,_ Obi-Wan thought, _I can do this._

And then Anakin opened his mouth.

"Well, if it _**is**_ like podracing, then I _**know**_ I can do it! Can I help, Qui-Gon? Can I?"

And then Qui-Gon agreed with him, and Obi-Wan's momentary _can-do!_ attitude dissolved instantly.

"I bet Obi-Wan would love for you to help him pilot the ship, Anakin," Qui-Gon said encouragingly, excitement coloring his tone.

"No, I wouldn't," Obi-Wan said pointedly. "It really is just a one-man job."

"Then why is there a co-pilot's chair?" Anakin demanded, kicking against the console.

"Yes, Obi-Wan, why indeed?" Qui-Gon asked with a smile, pleased by Anakin's quick wit and with how well his two Padawans were getting along.

"To remind the pilot why he needn't have come," Obi-Wan responded dryly.

OoOoOoOo

Yeah, I know, kinda dry … hmm. I'll endeavor to add more humor to the following chapters. Suggestions, reviews, Anakin-based rants; I welcome them all. :D


	6. Eight Days

Special thanks to TheMacUnleashed; once I read your review and quit laughing, I immediately typed up this chapter. Sometimes inspiration just needs a little nudge out the door.

So, to recap - **two** chaps posted this weekend! If you're just tuning in after chapter four because you got a new chap alert from ff.n, make sure you read both chaps. It'll really help to facilitate understanding of the complexity and depth of this story, and increased awareness of continuity and other plot devices in this emotionally driven and amazing fic.

Please read and review. You don't want to see an author beg, do you? It's not a pretty sight. There's a lot of crying and smudged mascara involved.

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Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Six: Eight Days until Obi-Wan's Trials

"Wheeeeeeeee!"

The ramp slid down and Anakin bounded out exuberantly, all of the energy he had _**not **_contained in the confined space of the small ship continuing to _**not**_ be contained as they exited said small ship into the murky docking bay. Obi-Wan had, he thought, reasonably argued that it would be more efficient and faster to pay the small docking fee and land in town rather than park out in the middle of the desert somewhere and walk for a day to get to town. Thankfully, Qui-Gon had agreed, though this did leave Obi-Wan to pay the docking fees as Qui-Gon rather embarrassedly claimed that he had "left his credit chip on his dresser back home."

Qui-Gon smiled proudly for what may have been the sixty-seventh time so far this trip – Obi-Wan had been keeping only a rough count, so the actual number may be higher – as he watched Anakin cheerfully bounce across the docking bay.

"Isn't he wonderful, Padawan?" Qui-Gon said with a grin. "So full of enthusiasm for life, and a love for being the Chosen One that I can share in as his Master."

"Yep," Obi-Wan agreed absently, rifling through his belt pouches for his own credit chip. "You're both full of it, all right."

"Full of the Force, I know you mean," Qui-Gon clarified for Obi-Wan, who nodded.

"Of course. Master," he hesitated, knowing now was probably not the _**best **_time to bring this up and that in fact the actual _**best**_ time would have been before they boarded the ship and set the coordinates for Tatooine, "Are you certain this was a good idea coming here?"

"What do you mean, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked as they walked into the sunshine. Both Jedi breathed an appreciative sigh after the long trip through cold space.

"Well," Obi-Wan explained tentatively, "Now that we're back on Tatooine again, Anakin will want to visit his mother. And if he'll want to visit his mother, then he's going to want to free her... " He frowned. "It's starting to sound like 'If You Give a Mouse Droid a Cookie'."

"Well, I too am looking forward to seeing Anakin's mother again," Qui-Gon said dreamily. "Such a lovely woman."

Obi-Wan caught his tone and looked askance at his Master. "Qui-Gon, are you sure there isn't an ulterior motive for you urgently wanting to take this out-of-the-way trip to Tatooine?"

"What?" Qui-Gon was scandalized, though Obi-Wan noted the slight blush that spread across Qui-Gon's bearded cheeks. "Padawan, I'm offended that you would even suggest such a thing," he stammered. "Oh, look at that sign, it looks important," he gestured quickly to a plaque on the far wall, but neither he nor Obi-Wan could read the unfamiliar language.

"Mmhm," Obi-Wan murmured suspiciously.

OoOoOoOo

They had ironically arrived in Mos Espa in the late evening after Watto had closed for the day. Qui-Gon steadfastly ignored Obi-Wan's complaint that they should have done what he had suggested earlier and commed ahead first to see if anyone would even be there; they ended up going straight to the tiny Skywalker hovel, making Obi-Wan wonder if that had been Qui-Gon's plan all along. And when, within five minutes of their arrival Qui-Gon sent Anakin off to find his friends and sent Obi-Wan to bed ("soon-to-be Knights need their rest too, Obi-Wan"), the young Jedi was certain that it _**had**_ been Qui-Gon's intent. And now all those late-night comm calls to Tatooine on their comm bill made sense.

So Obi-Wan laid on Anakin's old narrow bunk, listening to the skeletal mass of wires and metal framework that Anakin had called "Threepio" go on about the dangers of being a naked robot, and remembered.

He remembered saying, _Master, you could be on the Council by now if you would just follow the code. They will not go along with you this time… _

__And he remembered Qui-Gon replying,_ You still have much to learn, my young apprentice._

Much to learn? Who was supposed to teach him?

_I will train him. I take Anakin as my Padawan-learner._

_An apprentice, you have, Qui-Gon. Impossible, to take on a second…_

He should be thrilled. Qui-Gon had said he was ready to take the Trials. He was about the right age to be Knighted. It was time. He was ready.

_Ready, are you? What know you of ready?_

Even if Yoda didn't think so.

_He is headstrong and he has much to learn about the Living Force, but he is capable. There is little more he can learn from me. _

Uh … "capable"? Now that Obi-Wan actually thought about it with a clear mind, maybe Qui-Gon didn't actually think he was ready, either …

Hm. That was sobering. Obi-Wan surveyed the small window in Anakin's room, wondering if he could fit through it to sneak out into town while Qui-Gon and Shmi conversed in the next room.

"Excuse me, Threepio?" he politely interrupted the robot's unceasing prattle. "Do you ever get out into town at all?"

Threepio switched tracks without even a second thought. "Of course, Master Kenobi, I often accompany Mistress Shmi as she runs her errands. Sometimes I even help out at the shop," he added proudly.

"That's great," Obi-Wan replied encouragingly. "So you have a pretty good idea of where things are?" It occurred to Obi-Wan that why the hell was he thinking about _**sneaking**_ out? He was twenty-five years old, for Sith's sake. He was going to walk out that door as quietly as possible so as not to attract Qui-Gon and Shmi's attention, and he was going to do it with his head held high, damn it!

"Oh, of course, Master Kenobi," Threepio affirmed cheerily, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but think that "Master Kenobi" had a pretty damned nice ring to it.

"Great," he said again. "So, where is the nearest bar?"

OoOoOoOo

Tatooine was just as unpleasant as he remembered it, and he hadn't even really left the Nubian vessel the last time he'd been here. That Anakin had weathered year after year here, no greenery to be seen, no dramatic change in the seasons, saddened Obi-Wan a little.

Anakin didn't seem too upset about it, though, happily leading the way toward Watto's shop.

"I bet he won't even recognize me!" he grinned cheerfully, "with my new Jedi robe and all!"

The door chime sounded as they entered the shadowy junk shop, and Obi-Wan's sadness only increased as he took in the absolute soul-stiflingness of the interior. He wondered quietly if a Jedi as infused with the Living Force as Qui-Gon Jinn could have at all avoided the desire to rescue a small child living in such dire conditions. And maybe the fact that Anakin was strong in the Force was just icing on the cake that Obi-Wan had pilfered for breakfast a few short days ago.

Maybe. Obi-Wan's recollection last night of the conversation with the Council wherein he was disowned by Qui-Gon still rang loudly in his mind.

A beating of wings, a snapping of dirty teeth, and Watto was hovering before them; a small, blue creature who looked like he worked at being filthy and repulsive in all areas all of the time.

"Hey, Watto!" Anakin shouted cheerfully. "Look at me! It's me, Anakin!"

Watto's bulbous yellow eyes settled on Anakin warily. "Oh, it's-a the little Skywalker, is it?" He sniffed a greeting in Qui-Gon's direction before surveying Obi-Wan greedily. "Hey, you bring this-a one to replace the one you took from me, eh? I bet I could get more than a decent day's work out of him, yes?"

"Please don't give him any ideas," Obi-Wan instructed wryly. "He shall be rid of me soon enough."

"Padawan!" Qui-Gon managed to look simultaneously surprised and offended. "'Rid of you?' Why would you say that?"

"Because there is little more I can learn from you?" Obi-Wan suggested unenthusiastically. The Padawan turned back to Watto. "Here. Please just take this," he sighed, embarrassedly handing Watto a brightly-colored invitation.

"What is this?" Watto demanded. "Is this some kind of a trick or something?"

"It's for my party!" Anakin intervened, looking up from where he was moving parts into different bins. "I'm the Chosen One!"

"Eh? The chosen one for what?" Watto asked suspiciously. "To mess up the order of things in my shop? Do you want to pay to have those sorted back out?"

"Never mind, Anakin, come away from there," Qui-Gon interrupted hastily. "Let's go back and see your mother."

"Are you sure you don't want to leave this one?" Watto turned back to the Jedi, smiling warmly at Obi-Wan, who cringed uncomfortably and began inching rapidly toward the open doorway.

"Yeah!" Anakin chimed in, coming to stand by Qui-Gon. "You picked me as Obi-Wan's replacement, now he can be _**my**_ replacement and stay on Tatooine and never have to come on any missions with us!" He offered Qui-Gon a huge, hero-worship smile.

"Yes, you're an excellent replacement," Qui-Gon agreed, grinning back. He clapped a friendly hand on Obi-Wan's bicep, offering the Padawan a warm smile. "And though I'll be sorry to lose the original, Obi-Wan's fate is not to stay on Tatooine, Anakin. He is destined to be a great Jedi Knight and then train his own Padawan someday."

Obi-Wan smiled sincerely. "Thank you, Master." They gratefully left the dark interior of the Watto's, meandering along the shop-lined street on their way back to Skywalker's.

"Oh, hey look," Obi-Wan's brow furrowed (its natural state, which was a good indicator he was headed for Council membership one day) as he glanced at a display outside a junk shop they passed. "A hyperdrive motivator for the same ship the queen had. There's a whole bin of them here on clearance." He fixed a curious stare on Qui-Gon. "How many shops did you say you looked in again?"

* * *

Please review. You know it doesn't take long, really. A minute of your time makes my day and gives me the chance to check out your profile and stories if I can.

* Thanks again to TheMacUnleashed for the awesome 'If You Give a Mouse a Cookie' line! Readers enjoying this story have you to thank for the surprisingly quick update!

* ObiBettina7 inspired the scene in the last chap with Qui-Gon being proud of Anakin for defying the Council – thank you!


	7. Five Days

Thank you to the readers who have left reviews and ideas, I love trying to incorporate them into the storyline and I'm so amused by the creativity and humor involved in the suggestions. Again, thank you! I'll be sad when this fic closes, to be sure. There are a few chaps to go, though, so if there's something you'd like to see or hear, pm me or leave it in a review and I'll try to work it in!

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Seven: Five Days until Obi-Wan's Trials

It was actually getting embarrassing, Obi-Wan realized in disbelief.

Qui-Gon's continued excuses to stay on Tatooine, starting with 'the hyperdrive motivator has been damaged,' which was _**not**_ true (Obi-Wan had learned a lot about hyperdrive motivators during what he now liked to think of as The Worst Week of His Life So Far) to 'Watto still hasn't made up his mind if he's coming!' (also not true; when they had gone back to the shop to ask for his RSVP, Watto had laughed so hysterically about the idea of leaving his junk shop to and flying to Coruscant to attend a birthday party for The Chosen One Anakin Skywalker that something in one of his stomachs had popped and he ended up in the local medcenter for the past few days. Ergo, Obi-Wan was pretty certain that Watto wasn't coming to the party with them.)

Today's excuse for not leaving for Coruscant was that Obi-Wan and Anakin still needed to watch over Watto's shop until the Toydarian was discharged from the medcenter that afternoon. Obi-Wan had found that a few days of watching the junk shop, chatting with the patrons, and trying not to be annoyed by Anakin blathering on to everyone who would listen about being The Chosen One was akin to the sort of punishment Master Yoda would and had meted out to someone who maybe liked throwing pebbles into the Temple Fountains – which, Obi-Wan thought defensively, was not exactly the worst kind of crime and also not the worst thing one could do to said Fountains (which Obi-Wan also knew, having caught Anakin doing that very worst thing to the Fountains, much to his horror and revulsion.)

The worst part of staying around, possibly, was that Qui-Gon was completely uninterested in helping out at the shop; instead, he spent their time in Mos Espa with Anakin's mother, Shmi, "seeing the sights." Yesterday he had claimed that he couldn't work the register because he and Shmi were taking a "gondola ride;" which considering that the portion of Tatooine that Mos Espa inhabited was a sandy, barren wasteland, made Obi-Wan more than a little suspicious at his Master's shady, vaguely-specified endeavors.

Not only that, but Qui-Gon had begun slyly adding, "wink, wink, you know what I mean, eh?" to the end of every sentence concerning Shmi – at least, any time Anakin was out of hearing range. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan _**did**_ know what he meant, and a little bit of vomit always rose in the back of his throat when he thought about it. It was just … unsettling.

In all, their time on Tatooine was very off-putting and a huge disruption to his Schedule, and Obi-Wan couldn't wait for it to end. They could collect the ragamuffins Anakin had lined up to attend his party and blow this dustball and it would be _**glorious.**_

"Hey, sweetheart, are you listening to me? Hello?"

Obi-Wan pulled himself away from his reverie, eyeing the blonde woman who was watching him impatiently from the other side of the counter.

"Not really, no," he admitted truthfully, and her mouth turned down in a frown.

"Well, you're cute, so I forgive you," she said shortly. "But I still need help."

Obi-Wan obligingly filled her order, though he noticed it involved a lot of him bending over to reach things on lower shelves and her smirking a lot. He was dubiously relieved to wrap up her order and hand her the bag of merchandise.

"You new to this hellhole?" she asked pointedly. "I could show you around, if you like."

"Ah, no," Obi-Wan replied, "only here for a day."

She scrutinized him inquisitively, eyes sparkling. "Any other services you provide?"

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head, knowing where this was going – _wink, wink, nudge_, he and Qui-Gon could _**both**_ be doing it – but felt compelled to add honestly, "Though my résumé _**is**_ quite extensive: negotiator, swordsman, pilot, Not The Chosen One – "

"Uh-huh. Nevermind." She waved a hand drolly as she turned for the door. "Though if you ever decide to lease your services out as a mechanic or a racer, let me know."

"I can promise you that I will never do that," Obi-Wan uttered bluntly as the blonde had sauntered out. "I am _**never**_ coming back to this planet _**again**_."

"Bye, Delian!" Anakin called after her - she was evidently a regular patron - and she gave the boy a quick grin before disappearing into the midday crowd ambling through the thoroughfare. Anakin turned to Obi-Wan sagely. "Just imagine: you, a racer?" he shook his head knowingly. "What was she thinking? Boy, that just torques you off, doesn't it?"

"Anakin … "

Obi-Wan trailed off as there wasn't much he could say. Anakin had heard Obi-Wan make a rather vulgar comment to a rude customer – Obi-Wan may have been an excellent negotiator, a Jedi warrior, and a masterful swordsman, but he just wasn't cut out for retail – and had mistakenly thought that Obi-Wan had used the word 'torque.' For awhile he tried to copy Obi-Wan by suggesting that people "torque off", and though Qui-Gon had looked on disapprovingly Obi-Wan had pointed out that what he had actually said had been much, much worse and it wouldn't do to correct the boy. Now, predictably bored, Anakin was trying variations on his phrasing, resulting in Obi-Wan having heard the word 'torque' used more in the past two days than he had in his entire life.

"I'm glad she torqued off," Anakin added cheerfully, though trying to sound grown-up and serious.

"Yes, Anakin," Obi-Wan said wearily.

OoOoOoOo

"_Vrroooooom… screeee!"_

Anakin's YT-1000 light cruiser slid across the board to rest menacingly in front of Obi-Wan's tiny podracer, casting a short shadow over the racer peacefully resting on the dark-colored square in the corner of the board.

"Your move!" Anakin announced proudly. "But it's not going to do you any good, Obi-Wan – I have you now!"

"Mmhm." Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably; though he was by no means tall, he still found his knees jammed up against the edge of Anakin's snack table, where he and Anakin were playing a game to pass their final evening on Tatooine. Mostly he was trying to ignore watching Qui-Gon and Shmi in the kitchen while simultaneously attempting to overhear every single word they were saying.

"… should come to Coruscant…" Qui-Gon murmured encouragingly, and Obi-Wan couldn't make out Shmi's quiet demur over the sound effects emanating from the other side of the table.

"_bloopbloopbloopbloop"_ Anakin's Gungan bongo _blooped_ around the board cheerfully, narrowing avoiding sideswiping Obi-Wan's Mandalorian starship.

"Come _**on**_, Obi-Wan, it's your turn – hurry up!"

Obi-Wan reluctantly pulled his attention away from the kitchen to focus on the board and allowed himself a small smile as he surveyed the array of pieces carefully arranged according to his master plan. He would easily beat Anakin in another two moves.

"Look, I'm the only human who can do it," he grumbled with a teasing grin toward Anakin as he moved his podracer, aligning it to take out Anakin's Republic battleship – his crucial piece. Anakin had left it wide open, moving the defending pieces away from it because "they made cool noises" and he liked moving them randomly around the board.

"Ha!" Anakin crowed. "You fell into my trap! Jedi me!" he announced happily, s_hhhhiirring_ a landspeeder to the edge of Obi-Wan's side of the board.

Confused, Obi-Wan turned his complete focus back to the game, looking at Anakin incredulously. "Anakin, we're playing chess, not checkers," he pointed out.

There was silence for a moment, interrupted only by Shmi's quiet giggle from the kitchen, then:

"Ah, torque!" Anakin groused.

"Well, this game is ridiculous anyway," Obi-Wan grouched, desperately wishing he could ignore what was happening in the other room. Screw listening in - he just wanted to leave. "Look at this: podracers would never encounter stock freighters in battle. It's a ridiculous set. And the bongo is an aquatic vehicle, in any case."

Obi-Wan looked up just in time to see Qui-Gon snap a wet dishtowel at Shmi's backside as the woman ducked away, laughing.

"Oh, Quiggles, stop," she complained breathlessly, much to Obi-Wan and Anakin's mutual discomfort. They shared a look that clearly said _let's finish our game somewhere else_.

"Oh, torque," Obi-Wan sighed.

OoOoOoOo

Finally, they were ready to leave. Qui-Gon ran the preflight checks while Obi-Wan grudgingly belted in a number of excited children and wondered if he could spend the return flight to Coruscant hiding out in the fresher. _This was such a bad idea,_ he thought with a sigh. He was surprised when he felt the rumbles that accompanied the ship lifting off – all of the guest children were accounted for, but Anakin was missing; perhaps he had accompanied Qui-Gon.

When Obi-Wan entered the cockpit, however, there was no sign of Anakin, though he did pass Shmi on his way in. She smiled at him in a very motherly fashion and Obi-Wan frowned as he surveyed his master, lounging comfortably in the co-pilot's chair.

"Master," Obi-Wan said slowly, "I realize it may have been difficult to perceive with all of the other ragamuffins running around, but did you notice that Anakin is not with us?"

"Oh, yes," Qui-Gon said calmly, flipping a few switches, exuding calm and happiness that, while Obi-Wan was pleased to see his Master experiencing such peace, still set him on edge a bit. "I meant to tell you about that," Qui-Gon added. "I traded him back to Watto in exchange for his mother. He didn't mind."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped, then he snapped his mouth closed with effort. "What?"

Qui-Gon smiled dreamily. "Yes, Shmi is coming to Coruscant with us. Buckle in, we're going to lightspeed in a moment."

Dropping into the pilot's chair, Obi-Wan felt his ire rise, on Anakin's behalf if nothing else. Sure, he and the child weren't exactly hitting it off, but still ... it would be horrid to let the boy down so.

"I'm sorry, 'Quiggles'," he ground out, "but you can't do that! You promised Anakin you would train him as a Jedi and you must follow through on that!"

"No, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, eyeing the Padawan sternly for the clearly sarcastic use of his new nickname. "I have made my choice."

"You can't leave Anakin here!" Obi-Wan protested. "He is a Jedi Padawan!"

"Really?" Qui-Gon challenged, looking interestedly at his apprentice for what seemed like the first time in a really long time. "So you believe Anakin should be trained, then?"

"I don't think it's fair to say that you'll train him and then abandon him," Obi-Wan responded, wishing they weren't having this conversation.

"Would you train him?" Qui-Gon asked seriously, and Obi-Wan felt the first stirrings of suspicion mingled with dread tickling under his skin.

Obi-Wan sighed, the hesitant answer dragging from his lips before he could stop himself. "I think he has the potential to be a great Jedi Knight," he answered mechanically. "I would train him if necessary."

Qui-Gon clapped a friendly hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder – he had done that enough lately, actually, to make up for all the attention Obi-Wan **_hadn't_** gotten during his training, and now the overwhelming amount of shoulder-clapping and braid-tugging the Padawan was receiving was positively dizzying.

"You see, Padawan," Qui-Gon said proudly, "I knew you liked Anakin!"

"That's not what I – " Obi-Wan started, but he was interrupted by Qui-Gon calling joyously,

"It's okay, Anakin, you can come out now!"

There was a rustling from beneath the navigator's console and Anakin burst out happily, throwing himself at Obi-Wan in a hug.

"I knew it!" Anakin said gleefully. "I **_am_** the Chosen One and you really like me, Obi-Wan!" He and Qui-Gon high-fived, obviously quite pleased with themselves.

Obi-Wan mechanically disengaged himself from Anakin, rose from the pilot's chair, and slowly made his way past Qui-Gon.

"Where are you going, Padawan?" the Jedi Master asked, surprised.

"To let myself out," Obi-Wan replied woodenly.

"But, Obi-Wan, we're in the middle of hyperspace," Qui-Gon protested.

"Yes," Obi-Wan answered evenly. "I know."

* * *

Okay, blame pronker for "Quiggles" and also the challenge to use the word "torque." lol.

Also thanks to Kioshe for the "Star Wars" chess suggestion!

Xaja Silversheen – the Monty Python reference was for you! Hope it worked okay - that's one of my favorites. :D


	8. Three Days

I've been thinking about a round robin Obi-Wan story … would any authors be interested in participating? Please let me know, either via pm, review, or, email – obiwriter(at)yahoo com – and it's not necessary to be a registered ff.n user (hence the email ;)

Thanks for the reviews and challenges – I love trying to incorporate them into the story, whether it's a certain word, item, phrase, or scenario. Please feel free to submit anything you'd like to see – about two, maybe three chapters to go!

* * *

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Eight: Three Days Until Obi-Wan's Trials

_The cacophony of goblin howls outside the massive doors was near-deafening, but the Fellowship of the Ring held their ground firmly. _

"_Do not be afraid, little ones," Beniwan said to the hobbits kindly, his sword at the ready, his stance tense, while outside the goblins howled, howled, __**howled**_…

"_**Obi-Wan! **_Come _**on**_! Open the door!' Anakin shouted, his small fist banging on the fresher door.

"Death first," Obi-Wan grumbled, then cocked his head to the side, considering, and resumed typing furiously.

"_Open the door!" a small goblin voice shrieked above the others. _

"_Death first!" roared Beniwan defiantly, exchanging a hasty nod with Aragorn; after the initial tension of their first meeting, the two had become quite good friends…_

"I can't hold it anymore, Obi-Wan! You've been in there for _**hours!**_"

"_I can't hold the door any longer!" Boromir yelled, retreating to where the others waited near Balin's tomb, weapons poised for the fight they all knew was coming. _

"Obi-Wan, _**really,**_ Padawan."

This latest plaintive voice belonged to Qui-Gon, his large first joining Anakin's smaller one in thumping against the door. "You must realize these small children need to use the fresher!"

"_They have a cave troll!"_ _Boromir announced unhappily as the large beast pounded on the creaking door with its massive fists…_

"_**Obi-Wan**_!"

"Fine!" Obi-Wan mumbled, conceding that he probably _**should**_ stretch his legs after spending hours holed up in the small gap between the fresher's sink and the wall.

Unfortunately, the fresher was the only area aboard their small ship (way too small to be carrying an entire load of children back to Coruscant for a freakin' birthday party) that had a door with a locking mechanism, so after Qui-Gon and Anakin's little deception Obi-Wan had decided that instead of ejecting himself out into space as he had originally planned and giving them the satisfaction of winning, he would just lock himself in the fresher instead and continue working on his story – he thought privately that his OC was fitting in pretty well, and he was pleased by that.

Unfortunately, there was a downside to commandeering the only fresher on board, as evinced by the pounding on the door that had been going on for the last hour. Were it anyone but Anakin and Qui-Gon, the wryly kindhearted Padawan would have immediately conceded and vacated the facilities, but for reasons already mentioned, Obi-Wan was still feeling a little salty toward the two conspirators and saw no reason to offer them a reprieve.

Though, they would be coming up on Coruscant pretty soon and Obi-Wan still needed to pilot their vessel in – unless Anakin was going to do _**that**_, too.

Obi-Wan rose stiffly, ignoring the creaking and popping from his various joints. He was actually looking forward to their return to Coruscant and the calm sanity of being surrounded by other Jedi, because after a few days of Tatooine he had been starting to wonder if he were the only sane person left in the galaxy. He had almost included Shmi in his estimation, she had seemed pretty practical; until he'd heard her refer to Qui-Gon as – Obi-Wan shuddered – "Quiggles**_"_** which sounded like a pint of the worst flavor of ice cream _**ever**_ (possibly even worse than "Mace Chocolate Chip.")

Back straight, eyes forward, writing pad safely tucked away in his robe, Obi-Wan swept past Quiggles and Brattykins without a word, through the crowd of children who were actually literally bouncing off the walls, and into the cockpit. He dropped into the pilot's chair gracefully, returned the Temple's call to let them know it wouldn't be necessary to have Healers meet them on the landing platform (_why did they always ask that?_ Obi-Wan wondered absently), and with a sigh of relief as they descended into the atmosphere of Coruscant, pointed their tiny, overcrowded vessel toward the visible Temple spires – toward home.

OoOoOoOo

They disembarked gratefully, a stream of small children flowing excitedly down the landing ramp followed by three rather weary adults. Mace Windu waited at the bottom of the landing platform and his brow wrinkled in distaste at the small, rumpled cluster that passed him, Anakin leading them excitedly.

Mace's expression brightened, however, when he noticed Shmi walking quietly beside Qui-Gon.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he questioned graciously, all _shut-your-mouth!_ velvety smooth; Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged a wary glance as he continued, "and who might you be?"

"I'm Shmi Skywalker, Anakin's mother," Shmi replied politely, extending her hand.

"Well, I'm Jedi Master and Council member Mace Windu," Mace continued his introduction suavely, bowing to kiss Shmi's hand, wincing just a little as she deftly flipped his grip into a handshake and grasped his hand firmly. "Please let me know if there is anything at all I can do to make your stay more comfortable."

"All right, all right," Qui-Gon edged past Mace, breaking the contact between the Council member and Shmi. "We should get moving," he explained with a light, almost apologetic laugh. "We have so much to do before the party."

"Actually, Qui-Gon, I'd like to speak with you in private, if I may?" Mace interrupted.

"I'm a free bitch, baby," Qui-Gon stated proudly, elbowing Mace out of the way and taking Shmi's hand grandly.

"Qui-Gon," Mace said sternly. "You owe me. Need I remind you why?"

Qui-Gon froze midstep. "Ah, of course. Anything for the Council. Obi-Wan, would you mind?" he gestured toward Shmi with a smile, and Obi-Wan glanced askance at him before shrugging awkwardly and leading the woman toward where the children had disappeared a few moments earlier.

Qui-Gon immediately rounded on Mace. "What's this about? And you _**promised**_you were never going to bring that up!"

Mace drew himself up straighter, and Qui-Gon immediately realized he would have to be careful – Mace had his big Jedi britches on today, which meant he was in Council-approved form.

"The other Council members and I have been discussing Padawan Kenobi's impending Trials, and we are questioning his state with regards to some of the decisions you've made in the last several months, Qui-Gon."

When it came to his Padawan, any suggestion that something was amiss was extremely unwelcome. Qui-Gon stiffened and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"What are you saying?" he asked coldly. "Are you saying Obi-Wan's not ready?"

"If we thought that we never would have scheduled his Trials," Mace countered. "Our concern is if he himself feels that he is ready. Have you spoken with him about it?"

Qui-Gon remembered that Obi-Wan had asked him just a few days ago if they could talk about the upcoming Trials, but he had been so busy, there was so much to do – the Chosen One couldn't do everything on his own, after all.

"Hm," was all he said.

"As I thought," Mace nodded calculatingly. "Have you even considered how this floccinaucinihilipilification of your Padawan is affecting Obi-Wan?" the Council member questioned, stumbling a bit over the long word but still trying to sound stern.

"Stop using your Awesomely Intelligent Word of the Day Calendar words on me," Qui-Gon complained mildly. "I know you better than that." He paused, a frown settling unhappily, maybe just a touch guiltily, on his lips. "And I do not estimate Obi-Wan to be valueless. He knows that."

"Really?" Mace challenged. "All I know is that boy tries his damnedest to please you, and I don't think you appreciate it. If you keep that up, one day Obi-Wan is just going to forget all about you ever training him and give all the credit to Yoda."

"Oh, please," Qui-Gon _pshaw_ed. "Obi-Wan would _**never**_ do that."

OoOoOoOo

"So … " Obi-Wan drawled uncomfortably, sitting politely on the couch across from where Shmi had settled into Qui-Gon's lounge chair.

"So … " Shmi returned, equally uncomfortably, sipping the tea Obi-Wan had prepared for her to avoid starting a conversation.

Awkward didn't even begin to describe the heavy silence that hung in the air between them: there were two things Obi-Wan and Shmi had in common – Anakin and Qui-Gon – and talking about either of them wasn't exactly appealing. Obi-Wan didn't even know what to say about Anakin, and he had the inkling that Shmi had very different feelings for his Master than he did. Thankfully.

"Lovely that you could come to Coruscant to visit," Obi-Wan finally said. "Perhaps Qui-Gon will be able to show you some of the sights while you're here." He tried hard to ignore the _wink, wink, know what I mean?_ that popped into his head and sounded suspiciously like Qui-Gon – revenge, he sighed, for The Chosen One's Drumroll. But the Drumroll was completely appropriate, while this was just … just demented.

"Oh!" Shmi looked startled. "You mean Qui-Gon didn't tell you – "

"I'm back!" Qui-Gon announced cheerfully, entering the room. "Are you ready to go, my darling?"

Obi-Wan was gratified that his master had addressed his question to Shmi, but still –

"Wait, tell me what?" he demanded. "What didn't you tell me, Master?"

Shmi opened her mouth to reply but Qui-Gon was faster.

"How much I value you, Padawan. _**Others**_ might try to make me place a value on your worth, but to me you'll always be worthless."

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan.

"What I meant was … " Qui-Gon began slowly.

"I know," Obi-Wan interrupted wearily. "Just go."

Qui-Gon tugged Obi-Wan's braid with a smile. "Just so you know. Shmi and I are going out tonight, but tomorrow we'll go over everything we need to in preparation for your Trials."

Obi-Wan smiled gratefully, a beauteous sunrise of a smile. "Thank you, Master."

"Of course. Anything for you," Qui-Gon said somberly, and Obi-Wan wondered if something Mace had said to Qui-Gon had prompted this sudden gratuitous outpouring of understanding love.

Then he thought: _who cares? Just take it!_

And then Qui-Gon tossed over his shoulder as they exited: "Oh, and can you check on all the kids for us? Thanks! Don't wait up!"

And then they were gone, and Obi-Wan realized suddenly, crushingly, that his Trials were barely three days away, and he didn't feel ready at all.

OoOoOoOo

ObiBettina7 made the astute observation that "Qui-Gon seems sort of demented in this" and it's completely true and also really amusing to write. He's just so funny to me when he's demented.

Thanks to Kioshie for the challenge to use the word "Floccinaucinihilipilification"! It's such an awesome word that if I could pronounce it, I'd use it!

Please review if you can! Thanks!


	9. The Day Before Obi Wan's Trials

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Nine: The Day Before Obi-Wan's Trials

_What's on your mind?_

Obi-Wan Kenobi considered the question thoughtfully, as he always did.

"Frustrated and extremely worried about tomorrow," he finally said, rubbing at his forehead wearily. His computer _blipped_ at him, and his screen updated:

**Obi-Wan Kenobi** is frustrated and extremely worried about tomorrow.

Obi-Wan frowned at his newly-revised Spacebook status. There _**was**_ a chance that any of the Council members would check their Spacebook pages before his Trials tomorrow and he really shouldn't give them the wrong impression. He'd been Friended by most of the Council, after all; Qui-Gon had teased him about it, but Obi-Wan had felt it would be rude to ignore their Friend requests. He did wish that Adi Gallia would stop sending him Bandomeerville apps, though.

"Delete that," he instructed his computer, still frowning. The computer _whirred_ and reacted obediently, and the _What's on your mind?_ query reappeared.

"Reading a good book," Obi-Wan announced, sighing gently as he put down the well-worn copy of Qui-Gon's "The Care and Feeding of Jedi Apprentices" handbook that he had snatched from the common room side table in a rare moment of boredom. He realized that once Qui-Gon had successfully secured Anakin as his new Padawan he must have pulled the battered tome from its usual spot on the bookshelf, where it sat between "Seven Habits of Highly Effective Jedi" and the book that had always made Obi-Wan a little nervous, "50 Ways to Leave Your (Padawan) Learner" (He could hardly have known that a mere few months prior, Darth Maul had been shocked to discover a similar book in his master's library, "The Secret (to Having Everything You Want _and_ Killing Your Apprentice Before They Kill You)."

It hadn't escaped Obi-Wan's attention that each wrinkled page had Qui-Gon's handwritten notations in the margins, and the old book was in almost unreadable condition – except for, curiously, the section specifically on "Affection and Your Padawan", which apparently had never been read: gleaming, pristine page after pristine page detailed "Showing Your Padawan Appreciation" with subsections titled "Braid Tugging: How Often?", "Hand on the Shoulder: Not Just in Extreme Circumstances", and "When to Mush if You Absolutely Must."

Obi-Wan also noticed an obvious cleanliness in the "When Your Padawan Disagrees with You" chapter, except for near the title where Qui-Gon had neatly written the words, "Ha! As if!" The young Padawan realized foremost that he would have to remind his master that the over-the-top, dubiously-shocked-sounding "as if!" had actually passed out of the popular vernacular more than a decade ago.

If he could ever speak to his Master again.

Obi-Wan checked the chrono and rose, realizing he needed to leave if he intended to make it to the Council chambers in time.

His talk with Qui-Gon hadn't actually happened when Qui-Gon had said it would, though Obi-Wan realized that this time he was more to blame for that than his Master: he simply could not bring himself to look Qui-Gon in the eye after yesterday morning, when he had inadvertently stumbled in on Qui-Gon and Shmi in the shower. Ironically, it wasn't as bad as it sounded.

Unfortunately, it was actually far worse.

He could still see them in their bright yellow slickers and galoshes, happily stumping around in the puddles they'd created in the tub. And he could still hear his Master's boisterous voice proclaiming, "_**See **_what you'd be missing by going back to Tatooine? This is just like it's raining!"

And he remembered the horror that shot through him, colder than ice, when he realized that his life was never going to be the same again.

The lift slowed and Obi-Wan absently hopped a little, feeling the impact of the gentle landing jar through the soles of his boots. He couldn't explain why he always did that, other than that it was something Qui-Gon had shown him how to do one night long ago after a much-younger-then Obi-Wan had been awoken by nightmares and been too terrified to go back to sleep.

He hadn't been able to talk to Qui-Gon after the shower thing. It was just impossibly awkward – and not the "I-don't-have-to-listen-to-you-because-I'm-the-Master-_so-there!_-awkward that had been developing between them since Obi-Wan had been old enough to form his own opinions; this was more like running-into-your-KinderCrèche-teacher-at-the-supermarket-and-she-comments-on-"what-a-fine-young-man-you've-become-and-would-you-like-to-go-out-sometime?"-_awwwwkward -_awkward.

So Obi-Wan bided his time nervously – only one day to go? How had that happened? – and now he was waiting outside the doors to the Council chambers.

He had been called to a private meeting with Master Yoda, but somehow Mace ended up there as well which annoyed Obi-Wan slightly because he didn't have his dictionary with him and he knew of Mace's fondness for using long, unpronounceable words.

Damn it.

Obi-Wan entered the room and knelt respectfully before Yoda, just catching the look of pity that flashed across the small Jedi's face as he inclined his head. The unexpected emotion caught Obi-Wan off-guard – did Yoda _**pity**_ him?

It was a disconcerting thought, and Obi-Wan hoped he had simply imagined it.

"Wish to speak with you, we do, Padawan, about your Trials," Yoda began slowly, and unexpected panic exploded through Obi-Wan's mind – _they don't think I'm ready!_

"I am ready to take the Trials," Obi-Wan interjected quickly, but he bit his words off before he could add, _I can't live with those three any longer! Please don't hold me back!_

Yoda frowned gravely at him, but Obi-Wan had known the old Master long enough to catch the hint of tempered amusement in his wide eyes. "Our own counsel we will keep on who is ready, young one," he admonished gently.

Mace cleared his throat and Obi-Wan again regretted that he hadn't brought his Standard Issue Padawan Pocket Dictionary with him.

"Padawan Kenobi, we admire your attention to duty and your honorificabilitudinitatibus; you have always conducted yourself in a manner befitting a Jedi." Obi-Wan was grateful the pebble-throwing incident earlier in the week seemed to have been swept under the rug, and he struggled to keep an expression of interest on his face as Mace continued. "We understand that things are going somewhat … unfortunately … for you of late. Qui-Gon's intent to train Anakin Skywalker has not gone unnoticed."

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan smiled faintly, "it would be difficult _**not**_ to notice with the new banner Qui-Gon's put over our door."

Yoda sighed and rolled his luminous eyes. "Told him, we did, that appropriate that was not."

"At any rate," Mace added, and Obi-Wan felt the sudden charge of excitement in the air surrounding Mace that always occurred when the Master was about to use another really long word from his Awesomely Intelligent Word of the Day Calendar, "I don't need to rely on my hippopotomonstrosequipedalian tendencies to tell you that in short, Master Yoda and I have spoken at length about your situation and we have a proposition for you."

_I'm being propositioned by Mace and Yoda?_ thought Obi-Wan distantly. _That's unfortunate._

"Ready, the Council has decided, that you are to be a Jedi Knight," Yoda informed him, and Obi-Wan sighed in relief. "But throw you out on your own, we will not."

"Uh, I don't understand … " Obi-Wan said slowly. "I don't think I'm ready to have a Padawan of my own … "

"Master Yoda has agreed to mentor you," Mace explained gently. "We will proceed with your Trials; if you pass your Trials successfully you will be a Jedi Knight, and Yoda will monitor your progress and assist you with any additional training you may require."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said gratefully, relieved if a little uncertain. It seemed like a cop-out, frankly, but if the Council had decided he was ready, and Qui-Gon thought he was ready … well, he must be ready.

And really, he just couldn't live with Anakin anymore.

* * *

OoOoOoOo

Obi-Wan was packing his bags, trying to still the nervous trembling in his hands as he placed yet another white tunic in his duffel. His Trials were tomorrow. Tomorrow. The day after today. He had heard from other Jedi how harrowing their Trials had been and he could only wonder what Dark Side-influenced terrors awaited him.

"Hey, Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes with a sigh, hoping against hope, but when he opened them Anakin was still standing in front of him, peering into Obi-Wan's open bag with his small nose wrinkled in an expression that should have been cute, but Obi-Wan just found annoying. Like ninety-eight percent of everything else Anakin-related (if pressed, Obi-Wan would probably have admitted that _**everything**_ about Anakin was annoying, but he felt a little less mean if he added that two-point margin of error.)

"Hey, whatcha doing? Are you packing? I'm glad you get to be a Jedi Knight, that's so exciting but I heard from Qui-Gon that the Trials are really scary, how pronked is that, huh?"

"Yes, it's going to be – wait," Obi-Wan paused, carefully working his way backward through Anakin's rambling. "Qui-Gon talked to _**you**_ about my Trials?"

Anakin nodded happily. "Yep!"

Obi-Wan muttered a word under his breath but not quietly enough because Anakin's eyes widened.

"What? You mean it's not really 'pronk'? Or can I use both words inter…interchangeably?" Anakin's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"No, Anakin," Obi-Wan interjected hastily, knowing there was no way this _**wasn't**_ going to come back and bite him. "You should never use _**that**_ word. It means… that things are … uh... really messed up." He hesitated to explain that the word he had just used was actually a "bad" word; he had tried to explain that to Anakin once after using the very mild "damn", but Anakin's huge eyes had welled up with tears and the gasped, "_Jedi use __**bad**__ words?"_ had slipped out of his mouth in such disbelieving horror that Obi-Wan had had no choice but to pretend he'd been kidding.

"Wow," Anakin replied gratefully. "I've learned all sorts of new words from you, Obi-Wan, thanks!"

Obi-Wan smiled brightly. "Not a problem, Anakin."

* * *

OoOoOoOo

_Keeeeekoooo … _

_keeeeekoooo…_

_keeeeekoooo…._

"Anakin, honestly!" Obi-Wan finally snapped, Anakin's intentionally labored breathing grating on his ears. "Is that something you _**must**_ be doing right now?"

"I am not Anakin," the boy pronounced solemnly in a voice that was supposed to be several registers deeper than his normal soprano but somehow still came out squeaky. Anakin was wandering around the common room, his blanket tucked into his collar like a cape, clutching his practice lightsaber and swinging it back and forth wildly. "I am Dark Father, Ruler of the Galaxy!"

"Really?" Obi-Wan sighed, "Because you sound like you're dying of pneumono-ultra-microscopic-sili-volcano-koniosis. Could you stop with the heavy breathing, please?"

_Keeeeekooo…_

"What means this, 'new-mo-nol….'" Dark Father stumbled over the long word with a frown.

"Sound it out," Obi-Wan suggested cheerfully, admittedly and unexpectedly reveling in the rush of using the mostly unpronounceable word (_and really, when would he actually get a lung disease from breathing in volcanic dust?)_. Maybe this was why Mace did it – it was as close to really living as a Jedi could get sometimes, other than sneaking out of the Temple on a Saturday night to drink kaffe and stay out til ten.

_Note to self: use more long, confusing words,_ Obi-Wan thought gleefully.

Qui-Gon Jinn chose that moment to make his appearance, sparing a quick glance from the elated Obi-Wan to a clearly confused Anakin; he smiled widely, interjecting himself between the two and throwing his arms over their shoulders. Because of the height difference, his arm actually landed on Anakin's head with a thunk, but the Jedi Master was too caught up in the camaraderie of the moment to register Anakin's muffled squeak of protest.

"There's my boys!" he said cheerily, though the reaction was not at all what he'd expected: both Anakin and Obi-Wan's expressions mirrored confusion and concern.

"Are you feeling all right?" Obi-Wan asked warily, a little embarrassed by how good it actually felt to have Qui-Gon's approving hand on his shoulder. "You know, Master, you've really gone downhill these past few weeks," he pointed out mildly. "I'm a bit worried about your welfare."

"Not at all, not at all; there is definitely no reason to worry," Qui-Gon smiled, pleased by his thoughtful apprentice. "In fact, I think you'll both be quite delighted with tomorrow's proceedings."

Misgiving settled heavily in the air at the Jedi Master's words; Anakin and Obi-Wan glanced at each other apprehensively.

"That means we're in a lot of trouble," Obi-Wan murmured in an aside toward Anakin, banded together, for the moment, by the common threat of a suspiciously-cheerful Master.

Anakin threw Obi-Wan a proud smile from under Qui-Gon's sleeve before saying, "So we're really fu – "

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan interrupted hastily, "That does sound like _**fun**_, Master,"

He shot Anakin a stern warning glance, surprised his verbal slip had actually come back to bite him so soon. He had thought he'd at least be out on his own first, since that was actually happening tomorrow. _Good for Anakin_, he thought absently, watching the small boy trying to blink out from under both his unruly hair and Qui-Gon's arm. _He managed to screw me over one more time._

"Obi-Wan, don't interrupt," Qui-Gon admonished sternly. "You really need to practice some humility, Padawan."

_**I **__need__**…**__? What? _"Yes, Master … " Obi-Wan agreed, frostily obedient as a glare settled over his expression. "Of the three of us here, _**I'm**_ the one who needs to practice humility."

"Yeah, 'cause I wasn't going to say 'fun' at all," Anakin chimed in, "I was going to say – "

"Well, I need to be off meditating," Obi-Wan interjected quickly, shrugging out from Qui-Gon's friendly arm. "Big day tomorrow, you know." He cast a final doubtful glance at Qui-Gon. "You're sure you're all right, Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled, sweetly beauteous. "Fear not, my young Padawan," he replied grandly. "It is merely the stress of planning this party. I am pleased to report that events are unfolding that will soon result in my utmost happiness."

Obi-Wan wasn't ashamed to admit that he didn't like the sound of that at all.

* * *

OoOoOoOo

Thanks to PadawanJesslinFett for the awesomely long words (one was so long ff.n kept deleting it so I had to hyphenate it to get it to post), Kioshe for the shower scene, and Mrs. Kenobi for suggesting the word "pronk."

Next chapter is the last, so get your requests and suggestions in before Friday, January 21!


	10. Anakin's Party

Okay, so this fic was supposed to be finished months ago, but that's life. And here it is, finished now, so that's something, right?

I loved writing this story so much! The sheer ridiculous of it and all of the helpful suggestions from you guys really made this an amusing writing experience. Please feel free to submit more suggestions if you'd like to see another story of this ilk. So sad to see this one coming to a close.

Please review! For Obi-Wan's sake. Look at the past couple of weeks he's had! ;)

Unwelcome Houseguest

By: Syntyche

Chapter Ten: Anakin's Party

It was an unfortunate accident; a scheduling conflict, really.

Yes, Obi-Wan's Trials were today.

Yes, it was supposed to be a day of calm solemnity, quiet meditation, and restrained joy that another Padawan had successfully completed years of arduous training.

And yes, it was the day he had been anticipating nearly as long as he'd been a Padawan – before even that, perhaps. The day he had worked for, sweated for, visited nearly every Healer in the galaxy during his training for.

Today was _**that**_ day for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

However, most unfortunately, a minor oversight somewhere had resulted in Obi-Wan's Trials being scheduled for the same day as Anakin's rather large birthday party, weeks now in the planning and most highly anticipated by about four people in the Jedi Temple: Anakin himself, Qui-Gon Jinn, Anakin's mother Shmi, and Council member Mace Windu. It was awfully hard for Obi-Wan to take Master Windu seriously during his Trials when the now-former Padawan could easily see Windu's "Force Yourself!" party t-shirt peeking out from underneath his robes.

Obi-Wan had heard from other Jedi how harrowing their own Trials had been and he'd been grimly awaiting his own encounter with the Dark Side. What he hadn't expected, however, were these solemn words from Master Yoda:

"Padawan Kenobi," the small Jedi said solemnly, "watched you we have bear up under great pressure these past few weeks; tremendous was the strain, but displayed you have composure that would make any Master proud."

_Except maybe mine,_ Obi-Wan thought, wondering where this was going and trying not to fidget; he deeply appreciated the ceremony on his behalf but he knew Qui-Gon was counting on him to finish putting the decorations up before the party guests arrived.

"Therefore," Mace chimed in, "because of your perseverance under extreme duress, your poise under pressure, and your admirable control over emotional strain that surely would have quailed lesser Padawans and perhaps some Masters, we the Council are hereby conferring the rank of Jedi Knight upon you."

"Congratulations, Knight Kenobi," Yoda added, "Passed your Trials with grace, you have."

Obi-Wan wasn't certain he had heard correctly: in fact, he was sure he hadn't. His Trials had been two weeks with Anakin and Qui-Gon? It seemed so … wrong.

Well, okay, there was the little matter of him bisecting that Sith on Naboo. But that paled in comparison to the past few weeks. Theed Palace was one brief, terrifying moment in his life. The past few weeks had felt like _**eons**_ of unrelenting torment.

His braid was sheared off and dropped into his numbly upraised palm, and Obi-Wan wished he felt something at this moment he had so long dreamed of.

But he didn't have time, really.

He had decorations to finish putting up.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Look, Obi-Wan, isn't this cool?"

Qui-Gon proudly gestured toward the piñata he had created for Anakin. It was an odd thing, a grey sphere with darker intersecting lines and a fist-sized divot near the top. Originally, Qui-Gon had had it on a thin string; now it zipped around the room seemingly of its own accord.

"I put a training remote in it," Qui-Gon explained proudly, "so it would be harder to hit – I had to take Anakin's amazing talents into account when designing it. I hope he lets the other children have a chance," he added in a stage whisper, with a deprecating wave of his hand. "Could you take it with you when you finish decorating, please?"

"Of course, Mas … Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan sighed reluctantly, accepting the small device that controlled the floating piñata. He gathered up the rest of the decorations and set off for the map room, the piñata humming along behind him, happily obedient.

OOOOOOOOOO

The map room looked fantastic.

Obi-Wan had done a superb job decorating, even going so far as to insert a globe into the reader. Coruscant, Alderaan, Tatooine, Corellia … these worlds and many other planets and stars rested against the darkened ceiling where they could still be viewed even with the floor lights on. Qui-Gon had to admit he was impressed, which was something Obi-Wan managed every so often. If only there were more things that Obi-Wan was the only human who could do.

The guests were gathered and it was time to start. Qui-Gon had a brief moment of panic when he realized that he'd been so busy getting ready for the party that he hadn't had time to prepare a speech; once again, however, Obi-Wan had come through for him, silently handing him a datapad seconds before he stepped in front of the podium. The assembled children and Jedi mostly quieted and Qui-Gon glanced at the datapad and began speaking, trying to make it sound as if he weren't reading but had actually prepared and memorized this speech weeks ago.

"Good evening, everyone, and thank you all for attending. I just want to say a few mercifully brief words in acknowledgement of our guest of honor: Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One. Dum dum de dum," he read, and then shot a disapproving look at Obi-Wan, who smiled cheerily and waved back at him from the front row.

"Though Anakin had humble beginnings," Qui-Gon continued, glancing wearily back at the datapad, wondering if maybe he should have prepared his own speech, "we all know that he will soon rise to the level of the most dedicated of Jedi. Thank you to his mother Shmi Skywalker for allowing the Jedi this most high honor." He smiled at Shmi adoringly, took a quick glance at the words Obi-Wan had written about hard work and commitment and needing to keep on keeping on, and decided to just scroll to the end. "Thank you for coming," he read with a flourish, "and please remember to review every fic you read, because authors put a lot of hard work and time into their stories and it's very discouraging to get a lot of readers but not a lot of reviews." He shot a confused look at Obi-Wan, who nodded approvingly in a self-justified way.

Qui-Gon shrugged and added warmly, "Happy birthday, Anakin!" He looked around the room expectantly at the eerie silence that followed his words, cleared his throat, then frowned at the half-hearted chorus of "happy birthday, Anakin,"s that rose in a somewhat lackluster fashion from the assembled - all except the "Yeah! Happy birthday to _**ME**_!" that came loudly from the guest of honor.

"And now I have one more announcement," Qui-Gon murmured, nervousness mingling with pride and excitement shining in his tone. "To my former Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan glanced around in surprise, automatically straightening in his chair.

"Obi-Wan, I have watched you grow from an insecure teenager to an insecure young man," Qui-Gon stated formally, and Obi-Wan cringed, feeling an awkward blush warm his face. "And this very day I watched – without pride or love, because these things are paths to the Dark Side – " he interrupted himself snarkily, tossing an almost-sneer at Mace and Yoda, " – as you were Knighted, little one."

Obi-Wan frowned at the familiar clenching in his gut – for some reason, he had a bad feeling about this…

"My Knighting gift to you, Obi-Wan, is this … "

Qui-Gon paused his speech as he left his podium to stand near Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan realized that this was _**it**_, this was the culmination of all his foreboding. The world narrowed to a pinprick, and over the roaring in his ears he dimly heard Qui-Gon say,

"With the enthusiastic blessing of the Council, I have decided to resign from actively training Padawans, and therefore I am bestowing training of the Chosen One Anakin Skywalker to you."

Qui-Gon smiled warmly, following his generous statement up with the double whammy – a hand on the shoulder _**and**_ a braid tug – or at least, an air tug where Obi-Wan's braid would have been, had it not been cut off earlier that day.

"May the Force be with you," Qui-Gon said solemnly.

Obi-Wan realized suddenly that he wasn't surprised by Qui-Gon's generous … gift – in fact, he had been shrewdly expecting this since their arrival on Tatooine, and the few days he had spent watching Qui-Gon around Shmi had only cemented the nauseous feeling of grim anticipation lurking in his stomach.

He had his answer ready before the words were fully out of his former Master's mouth.

"No, thank you," he replied politely.

Qui-Gon's proud smile faltered just a little, slipping around the edges. "What?"

"You heard me," Obi-Wan said firmly. "I said 'no, thank you.' No. Thank. You. I will not train Anakin."

"But … you have to,' Qui-Gon said weakly, stumbling back a bit. "I have bequeathed him to you."

"No, I don't," Obi-Wan refuted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Where does it say that? Nowhere, that's where," he pointed out, though not unkindly.

"I don't know what to say," Qui-Gon said slowly, his hand sliding from Obi-Wan's shoulder in his shock. "You can't take back something **_bequeathed_** to you..."

"How about, 'Anakin, I am your Master?'" Obi-Wan offered helpfully. "Or, I have CHOSEN you to be my Padawan, Anakin. Or something like that?"

Dismay was starting to sink in past Qui-Gon's astonishment. "Obi-Wan, how can you do this to me? I had plans!"

"How can I do this to _**you**_?" Obi-Wan demanded indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "_**Hello**_, remember: "I take Anakin as my Padawan-learner?' Because I certainly do."

During this time, the audience's attention had begun to waver from what should actually have been quite gripping drama, and the one who ought to have been the most interested in the conversation – Anakin, for it was regarding his welfare they were disputing – was the quickest to lose concern. He decided that no one else should have to suffer boredom either, and glanced around quickly for a way to be interesting and the center of attention, which had unacceptably shifted away from him – difficult because there were no podracers in sight (a fact that was fortuitous to everyone else who had no wish to lose another eleven minutes of their lives watching him podrace a second time.)

Anakin shouldered past the other guests to the game table, locating, to his immense joy, the piñata Qui-Gon had constructed for him along with its remote. Without another thought, he sent the small sphere hurtling around the room, causing both laughing children and screeching adults to break from their seats and run about with their arms thrown up over their heads. One of the younglings – presumably to add to the fun – hit the illumination switch and the map room darkened, allowing the planets on the ceiling to be even more visible. It was a beautiful but eerie effect, and even distracted by Qui-Gon's tears, Obi-Wan had a weird foreboding when he glanced at the piñata and saw its dark shape hovering among the stars.

Obi-Wan let go of the thought immediately, however, as the piñata – perhaps due to the stress the training remote was under from holding the wire frame of the piñata in place – began to smoke and spin wildly. When the remote started to discharge its tiny laser, burning through the fist-sized divot at the front of the piñata and into the crowd, the Jedi organized a hasty evacuation, channeling partygoers from the room in an orderly fashion until the only people left were Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Yoda, Anakin, and Shmi, and Mace huddling over what looked suspiciously like a keg, trying either to hide it from Yoda or drink from the tiny hole the piñata/remote's laser had burned into the side.

"Great party," Mace added, tossing his robe over whatever it was and dragging his burden toward the door.

Qui-Gon watched forlornly as the piñata zipped by, still discharging laser fire randomly, Obi-Wan's rejection still echoing in his ears. "Thanks," he said hollowly, wondering if it was too late to get a refund on the two luxury liner tickets he'd purchased as a surprise for Shmi.

Severely overheated now, the piñata fired again explosively, burning a hole in the ceiling and effectively obliterating the spot where Alderaan hung defenselessly on the map.

"Wow," Obi-Wan said slowly.

"Cool," said Anakin.

"Jedi Kenobi," Yoda interrupted, tugging gently on Obi-Wan's cloak. "With me, come, and discuss with you I will your first solo assignment."

Obi-Wan glanced down in surprise before allowing a brilliant smile to break across his face.

He had made it. He was a Jedi.

He followed Yoda out of the carnage proudly, head held high, thinking it hadn't been such a bad Knighting day after all.

OOOOOOOOOO

The end. :)

I don't know. Demented Qui-Gon cracks me up.


End file.
